Broken Our Mirrors
by IndefiniteHeaven
Summary: Dipper thought he heard a distant whispering. Mabel thought she witnessed a shadow out of the corner of her eyes. They had never thought that the Mystery Shack could possibly be haunted. This discovery may kick-start, what could perhaps be the most difficult challenge for the twins of the Pines family. It may also reveal a few startling secrets. Anxiety!Dipper
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

**Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me.**

The Mystery Shack was eerily silent.

Mabel hated it. She loved when the sun shone pleasantly through the windows, revealing the dancing particles of dust in the air. She loved the ignorant tourist's constant chatter, as they listened to the weaved tales concocted by "Mr. Mystery" and bought the tawdry gift shop products. She loved the conversations made with her devoted family and friends. Mabel passionately hated this side of the Shack though. It was pitch dark. Deathly silent. She obviously knew the layout of the building, but none the less the dark Shack produced an perturbed feeling, that progressively welled up in her heart. Usually it wasn't quite that bad. She didn't wake often in the dead of the night and if she did, she was too sluggish to properly feel perturbed about a thing. But, this was one of those eerie nights that gave her those feelings. She simply wished to return to her nice, comfy room, reassured by the light breathing from her twin brother. Mabel was a preteen on a mission though; She needed water.

She softly creaked open the oak door of their bedroom, stepping out onto the the room where the stairs where located. Mabel slowly slunk down them, flinching at bit at the first creak produced by the floorboards beneath her fuzzy slippers. She would simply go to the kitchen, get a glass of water, and return to bed. No big deal. Not a thing to worry about. Mabel glided confidently down the hallway, feeling stupid about worrying in the first place. The brunette was able to successfully get her water, using the sink to fill her glass jar up. She took a sip, eyes adjusting to the dark. The outlines of the house were coming to her vision. Everything was fine. She had no idea why she worried. There wasn't any need to. Sure, there were dangerous things out in the forest, but the Shack was completely and totally safe from that danger. Mabel smirked to herself. No monsters out there could get her! And, there was nothing in the house that coul-

Except for that shadow.

By the luminance of the moon outside, she saw the barest of an outline of someone by the back door. Her cup froze in place, barely kissing her lips. After a moment, she screeched in fear and dropped her half full jar. Glass exploded everything, water gushing smoothly across the tile floor. Mabel stumbled back, as the shadow began to advance towards her. Oh, god, she was going to be killed by some robber or murderer. She was about to screech again, for help this time, but the light in the kitchen suddenly flickered on. Her eyes adjusted to the lighting, seeing a few dark spots in her vision. It was only her Grunkle Stan who was standing by the back door, hand on the switch next to it.

"Jesus, Mabel! What the heck are ya doing?" Stan exclaimed as he saw what had broken.

"Grunkle Stan!" She placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart. "Uh, what are YOU doing?"

He narrowed his eyes, as she avoided the question. "I ain't stupid, kiddo. I invented the 'answer-a-question-with-a-question' trick. Used to use it all the time as a kid. And if you really wanna know what I was up to, I was just chasing off those darn raccoons. They were freakin' digging through the trash, _again_..." Stan trailed off, mumbling about what gruesome things he would do the next time the raccoons returned. Mabel, still trying to calm her heart, decided not the comment this time on his cruel torture towards animals for once.

"Oh...I was just getting s-some water."

"Well, I can see that. You broke the glass and spilled it everywhere!"

Mabel cringed at this. "Sorry Grunkle Stan...you just...s-surprised me...I'll clean it up."

Stan released a sigh when he noticed how, uncharacteristically, fretful she was. "Never mind that, I'll clean it up myself. Now, get to bed."

Mabel nodded as her great-uncle reached into the kitchen pantry for a broom. She shuffled around the remains of the glass jar, intending to head to the darkened hall. She simply desired to go back to her bed, cuddling up against Waddles, until she drifted off to a peaceful slumber. She just wanted to forget that her imagination had decided to run wild and make her believe Stan was some random stranger that broke into the Shack. Mabel didn't even want to think about what would happen if that truly did happen. She was nearly to the hall, when Stan gently called her back over. She halted her walking and turned back around, standing in the entryway. He appeared to be somewhat concerned, eyebrows furrowed together. Why was that? "You ok, kiddo?"

Mabel jerkily nodded. There was no point in telling her great-uncle what she had foolishly seen, that would only cause him to believe she was crazy. Stan wouldn't believe her anyway; she was never serious, about anything. No one ever did believe her. Stan went back to sweeping up the shambled mess on the tile. The preteen gulped as she studied the glass. The shattered remains glistened menacingly, clinking when Stan swept at them. She knew what she hated more than a dark Shack. Mabel hated the fragmented leftovers of glass. Glass was fragile and fragile things broke. Broken things reminded her of other _things_ she didn't wish to think on. Things connected to that night. _That_ night. The night she witnessed the near de- She abruptly halted that thought, forcefully looking away from the mess, swallowing down her nausea. Mabel slipped herself out into the darkness of the hall. For whatever reason though, she glanced over her shoulder, ceasing movement as she did so. The darkness, and glass, and _that_ night were immediately forgotten. From the eerie glow of the dimmed kitchen light, an unknown shadow loomed over her great-uncle's.

_~!13-5-13-15-18-9-5-19/18-5-13-1-9-14!~ _

The Mystery Shack was eerily silent.

Dipper hated it. Last night, Mabel had gone to have one of her rambunctious sleepovers at Candy's house, along with her other friend, Grenda. No Waddles either. Mabel decided to introduce him to Candy's cat, Yaong. He felt bad for Mr. and Mrs. Chiu, knowing they were in for one crazy night. Here though, that usually (and thankfully) meant a whole lot less noise, as his twin sister was the boisterous one of the family. Dipper and Stan were appreciative that they could finally get a break from her and her noise. To be honest, the quiet tended to make him nervous, but usually the noise of his Grunkle Stan scamming the rowdy and ignorant tourists, Soos doing Grunkle Stan's slave work, or Wendy making causal conversation with the customers was enough to simply make the worry melt away. There was none of that this morning though. No Grunkle Stan scamming, no Soos doing slave work, and no Wendy making causal conversation. He had woken to silence.

Dipper stood, in a daze, in the brightly lit hall. The outside sun dazzlingly beating onto his, already warm, skin. He had been watching the dust particles dance and swirl before his vision. Dipper snapped out of his mindless gaping and looked out the window. The vast, never ending, forest of Gravity Falls was illuminated by the rising sun. Shadows stretched out across the lawn and into the hall. He took in the beauty of the wild Oregon landscape. It was truly a breathtaking sight, and he wished, not the first time, that he could live here, instead of near the Pacific ocean. Mabel claimed she believed California was the most beautiful place on the planet (though Dipper wasn't sure how she could claim such a thing, when the only other place the two had been was D.C. when their mother had gone for a business trip). Dipper though, thought this was the most beautiful place he had traveled to. If only it wasn't so quiet.

"Hello? Mabel? Grunkle Stan?" He asked the kitchen as he entered. He retrieved the sound of silence as his answer. Dipper frowned. The brunet was never here alone and it was unusual for it to be so. This provoked his heart to flutter with nerves. Dipper continued on to the living room, pushing down the panic welling in his heart. No one there either. His hands began to get clammy and trembly. He finally decided to make his way to the store, praying that everyone was already there. That was empty of people as well though. And it was a Saturday. Those were the usually some of the busiest days of the week and not a soul was to be seen. Dipper gulped, feeling full-on anxiety now. He made his way back to the living area on shaky legs, wondering what could be going on and why no one was around the Shack. Dipper was struck with the need to get to safety. He stepped into the hall, intending to head back to the safety of his room. The house still had that sort of silence that happened before dawn. When there wasn't any sound he would just abou-

Except there was an uncanny murmur behind him.

Dipper whirled around in the hall he now stood in, fear flaring. He calmed when he realized he was completely alone. He released a breath in relief and wiped at his sweaty forehead. Dipper frowned, as he realized it was chilly, not hot in anyway. It was the middle of the summer. Why did he feel like this? Strangely breaking out into a cold sweat was not a good sign. His breathing sped up. His thoughts became apprehensive as he realized something was about to occur. What? How did he know something was about to occur? The brunet slowly turned around, staring at the far away staircase. Dipper needed to return to his room immediately. How did he know though? His thoughts were all jumbled and tangled right now. A phrase was beginning to infinitely repeat itself. What did that mean? _What_ did that mean? _What did that mean? WHAT DID THAT MEAN? **WHAT-**  
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A word was murmured by his ear. "...sick..."

Dipper fearfully stumbled back from where he stood, chocolate eyes blown wide with horror and distress. Panic, that hadn't grasped him quite this strongly in awhile, seized him with its vicious claws. He needed to release. Release its claws? Release his panic? Release what? He couldn't even think! Both. He needed to do both. Dipper's lips moved, scream beginning to form, before it could release though, he tripped over his own two-feet. The back of his head painfully smacked into Stan's door. When he steadied himself, Dipper groaned aloud and rubbed the damaged area. The panic had been ebbed away, and the need to release a scream had vanished. His body was a separate story though. Suddenly, the door behind him swung open, causing him to startle.

A somewhat swaying Stan stood in the doorway. Dipper's hands dropped from his bruised head. His erratic breathing was audible as he toke in the maroon sleeping robe, watering eyes, and apparent flush on his great-uncle's face. Stan wiped at his nose with a bundled up tissue in his hand and sniffled loudly. He then produced the best glare that he seemed to be capable of at the moment, before speaking in a nasally tone. "What the heck are you doing, kid?"

"Uhhh...I was just...looking for s-something...um, are you ok?"

Stan scowled at the preteen. "Do I look ok to you, kid?"

"Right, sorry," Dipper was embarrassed at the obvious answer. "You're sick."

"No, really?" He sniffled, again, as he sarcastically replied. Stan then took in his great-nephew's appearance, noting the inconsistent breathing and tense appearance. "...You ok?"

Dipper hastily bobbed his head up and down. Satisfied, Stan moved on."Well, I'm gonna go back to bed. And you're gonna stop running into things and making all that darn ruckus this early in the morning!"

Stan slammed the door, with an grumpier look than usual on his face, right as Dipper opened his mouth to reply. He rolled his eyes at his great-uncle's typical behavior. Even when he was sick, he was still the same irritable old man. Waking him up wasn't even Dipper's fault. It was tha-The brunet cautiously observed his surroundings, searching for what could of made that ominous mutter. There was nothing though. What? His blank stare returned, set on the door of Stan's room, wondering what had even happened just a mere minute ago. Was there even a sound? Was he just imagining things? He would of easily been able to pass it off as his imagination, if it wasn't for one factor; This wasn't the first time. After what seemed to be years, Dipper decided to retreat to the attic. Just go to bed, all alone, and pretend this morning had not occurred. Dipper thought it sounded like a decent plan. As he was climbing the stairs though, he ignored the whisper he heard say his great-uncle's name.

_End Prologue_


	2. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

**Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me.**

Dipper woke, heaving for breath, as he tried desperately to suppress the urge to hyperventilate. Oh, god, that was horrible. He needed to calm his breathing though. In, out. In, out. In, out. Out, in. Out, in. Out, in. He lay there, soothing his aching lungs with the breathing technique. His dream had caused this. Or it seemed to be more of a night terror. What was it even about? Oh. It was _that_. Dipper observed the morning light stream lazily through the triangle window by his bed. He frowned. A triangle? How had he never noticed that? A triangle just like B- He heard the distant arguing of Grunkle Stan and Wendy coming from downstairs. She must of came in late, again. He assumed it must of been around opening time. The chatter fully eased the anxiety and near panic attack soothed away. They could make him feel safe, even at the worse of times.

Nightmares were a constant thing for Dipper. They had been his whole life (or at least as early as he could remember). The night terrors were a variety, ranging anywhere between getting the fear of a test, to the monsters in Gravity Falls murdering him. Since coming to Gravity Falls, he hadn't gotten so worked up about the now few dreams, but lately they had been getting worse, just like before he came here. He had even heaved into the toilet the other night, due to a partially bad one about Bill Cipher being back in his body. Thankfully, he wasn't alone though, as his sister sat with him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. She always knew what to do to make her brother feel better. Dipper hadn't any clue what he would do without her. Last night wasn't the dreaded triangle demon though. It was actually what he hadn't thought of for half of the summer. That is, of course, until now. Lingering on it would work him up, again, so he thought on different subjects, like why exactly his clock actually read 11:51 AM, instead of around 7 AM, when the shop opened. Why was he waking when it was nearly noon?

The brunet realized he felt completely exhausted, even though he had slept for hours. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Dipper just about laid back down, intending on sleeping more, but he knew it was way past the time he usually got up around. He stumbled sluggishly to the dresser, near Mabel's bed, and began to rummage through the top drawer, searching for that day's clothes. He decided to to dress as he typically did, opting for a forest green t-shirt and dark shorts, but still retained his signature trucker hat. After dressing, he made his way downstairs and into the empty kitchen. Dipper could now hear bits of what Wendy was saying to the noisy tourists. He found a carton of milk, a strangely bent spoon, a red plastic bowl, and a box of his favorite cereal. Dipper poured his bowl of "Overly Sensitive Owl" cereal and inspected it. Suddenly, the overly bright colors made his stomach lurch and he placed a hand over his mouth, attempting to steady his upset stomach and now labored panting. That dream had really thrown him out of whack. He couldn't handle eating anything right then. The cereal ended up dumped into the kitchen sink. Dipper desperately needed Mabel.

He headed out to the store, to see it busy as per usual, with a lengthy line of customers hoping to buy some gimmicky item Stanford Pines had constructed out of scraps from the dump. Wendy was taking her sweet old time, flipping through a magazine with one hand, while the other placed the money from customers into the cash register. "W-Wendy, have you seen Mabel?"

"I think she's outside with Stan!" Wendy called back, without even glancing up.

Usually, Dipper would try to talk more to the teen he had a crush on, but Dipper just wanted to find his sister. His anxiety wasn't settling down. There was a discernible tremble running through his body and his breathing was shallower than usual. That usually meant that a panic attack was on its way. Dipper needed to find his sister before it hit. He went outside to discover Stan weaving tales about Gravity Falls to a couple of tourists. Mabel wasn't around. Dipper needed to ask his great-uncle where his sister was, but the man was only half-way through his rehearsed lies. If he interrupted it might cause the potential customers to leave and make Grunkle Stan angry with him. Dipper fidgeted as he scanned the outside, from his place behind the screen door. She was nowhere to be seen. He accidentally released a choked whimper of distress. He hoped that the whimper wasn't loud, or this would become humiliating. His eyes widened when, when his great-uncle ceased speaking and turned around to spot him. Oh man, Stan was so going to mock him now for making that wimpy sound.

Stan had heard the odd whimper, turning to reveal it was Dipper to produce that noise. He began to grin, intending to mock the preteen, but imminently dismissed the idea when he studied him. Even though the screen door made things difficult for him to see through, he could tell that it was his great-nephew was immensely upset. He hadn't been aware that the kid was there, until Stan heard what strangely sounded like a whine. This wasn't the usual type of upset though, where Dipper was simply complaining about what stupid thing Mabel had done this time or how hard summer vacation had been for him. Stan always rolled his eyes at those moments, wondering how the preteen had even survived at home. Evidently though, this was completely different sort of upset. He had instantly felt a bit of worry pool in his heart. Completely ignoring the potential customers for once, he went over to the screen door and pulled it open. The elder man removed his fake eye patch, shoving it in his pocket, to get a better look at his great-nephew. Dipper was pale as a ghost and looked a bit surprised about his presence. This was actually important that meant. He released a sigh and grasped Dipper's thin arm, by his thick hand. Dipper's surprise increased, as Stan pulled him into the Mystery Shack. They went past the lengthy line of customers and a distracted Wendy, into the hallway separating the shop from the living quarters. Dipper appeared even more frightened by this point. Stan knew what part of the reason was.

"Kid, I ain't mad at you. I just wanna know why you look like somebody died?"

Dipper began to release speedy breathes by this point, but managed to ask in between them. "W-where's M-Mabel?"

"...That's it? God, you scared me, kid! I thought you were gonna say something like you found some dead body. I don't know where she is," Stan replied. A frown made way to his face. "Ugh, I lost some potential customers cause of this!"

Much to Stan's surprise, Dipper abruptly dashed out of the hall. Stan face-palmed after a moment. "Ugh, its probably something more."

Stan made his into the living room area, realizing Dipper wasn't there. He groaned. The kid had to go upstairs. He hated the stairs, they always made his joints hurt. Stan frowned. How did the hell did he climb a freakin' water tower, take on an army of zombies, and attack a pterodactyl, but only ached when he climbed the stairs? He shrugged after a moment and proceeded up to the twins' room. Stan intended to get down to the bottom of this (and maybe even apologize for blaming Dipper about the loss of customers if he was feeling generous). What he didn't expect though, was to discover his great-nephew, curled up on Mabel's bed, hyperventilating. Stan felt this was a bit of an overreaction, but then felt bad about yelling at the kid like that. He was even clinging onto his sister's pillow, as if it was a substitute for Mabel herself. Stan cursed, not caring about watching his language around Dipper at the moment.

Stan perched himself on the edge of the bed, knee joints creaking in protest. "Kid... Look, uh, don't tell anyone, but I'm, uh... sor... sor... sorrrrrrr... sorrrrrrrrrrr... Augh! I can't even say it. Look, I didn't mean it was your fault and...you ok?"

Dipper was staring blankly at him and squeezing the pillow tighter, trembling violently. Stan rubbed his neck uncomfortably, having no idea what was wrong. Was he truly that upset about the comment he made about the customers? It was honestly frightening him. "Uh, w-why are you doing that?" Still no reply. "Kid, I'm g-gonna, uh leave if you don't tell me why you look like you're having a panic attack, so say something!"

Dipper viciously nodded, throwing Stan completely off. "Wait, you _are_ having a panic attack?"

Dipper didn't answer, which was enough of an answer in itself. "Ah, shit. Uh, well I'm not sure what to do?"

Stan fidgeted, feeling increasingly uncomfortable by this predicament. "Uh, what...what, uh, do you want me to do?"

Half of Dipper was floored at how willingly Stan wanted to help. The other half was screaming as memories of last night's dream drowned his mind. His mind was bouncing back and forth liked a pinball at the moment, causing it to be difficult to think properly. Dipper couldn't even formulate words right now due to how chaotic his mind was and how erratic his breathing was. So, he did the only thing he thought that would convey what he wanted in that moment. He uncurled himself from around the pillow, and reached a trembling hand out to take hold of Stan's sleeve. His great-uncle nearly gawked as he realized Dipper wanted comfort from him of all people. "Uh, look, I ain't too good at all that mushy comforting stuff and besides why would you wa-"

He ceased speaking as he realized Dipper was beginning to place a death grip on his arm. "Ok, ok, fine! But, don't say I didn't warn you!"

Stan used the heels of his feet to slip off his shoes. He then swung his achy legs up onto the bed, and scooted over to sit against the wall, next to his distressed great-nephew. Dipper immediately curled up into his side and Stan stiffened. He had no idea what possessed him to go through with this. He had never been any good at comforting people. He recalled once in his freshman year, around when he first started to date Carla McCorkle, her dog Corkie had to be put down. Corkie had finally gotten to the ripe, old age of 14, but had to be let go due to his chronic aches and pains. Honestly, Stan was skittish around dogs, reminiscing on all his run-ins with those junkyard ones in New Jersey as a boy. A shortcut to his elementary school had been through that junkyard and he shuddered at the memories of what those dogs had done to him. He never informed Carla of this though, afraid she would stop dating him since he didn't liked them all that much. When she had come crying about it to him though, he had to awkwardly stand there while Carla clung to him, eyes full of tears. Stan had quickly come up a moving speech about how much he would "miss the little fella". Being too consumed in her grief, Carla was none the wiser that he was making it all up. Stan was used to dishonesty and fraud, not sympathy and comfort. This situation with Dipper though, was a bit different. He was fairly certain that his great-nephew would notice he was lying if he told him a false story full of no emotion.

"Uh, uh, there, there?" He told Dipper, patting his back. Stan had witnessed this technique a couple in times in those sappy romance movies (not that he watched them). He wasn't sure if this the correct way to comfort, since it was from a movie, but felt successful when he heard a laugh in between the preteen's heaving breathes. "You better not be laughing at me, kid."

He felt Dipper shake his head in his side, denying that he was. Stan could feel the brunet's whole frame shaking though and was beginning to get even more worried since he wouldn't quit all that hyperventilating. "Dipper, what else do you want me to do? You're...you're wheezing is kinda worrying me, kiddo."

Dipper thought he was astounded before, but was now beyond that. Stan wanted to actually do something to ease he suffering? His chocolate eyes stared into Grunkle Stan's uneasy ones, realizing that he truly wanted to help him get through this. With this thought in mind, he was able to hoarsely rasp the solution in-between breaths. "Talk."

Stan mused on that answer. He was aware that one of his strong suits was talking, as long as it didn't involve comforting with words. Stan had this incredible ability to narrate tales in such a way, that he could effortlessly entertain his audience. He was confident that he could do this. What to recount to Dipper though? Well, how about that time when he went to the bank and tricked that clerk int-wait, don't want Dipper to steal his great ideas. Or how about that time after Carla left him for that hippie, he had found those two women at that one club and convinced them to have a thr-hell no, the kid was too much of a wimp to hear the epic conquest he had that night. Well what about that time in Mexico when-Perfect. And so, he rambled on to the preteen next to him, recounting a story about the time he was nearly arrested by crossing the border from Mexico to the U.S., illegally carrying several South American fish with him, and the car chase that had occurred due to that.

_~!6-5-1-18/9-19/8-5-18-5!~_

Mabel, on the other hand, was discovering one of the most massive mysteries to secretly haunt Gravity Falls, for the span of over three decades.

_End Chapter 1_

**Don't worry, I'll be bringing up what those eerie sights and sounds were pretty soon. I just wanted to convey that Dipper is having some serious emotional issues at the moment and for Stan to realize it. It will be more Mabel centered next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

**Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me.**

Mabel wasn't quite sure how she even became involved with this whole situation in the first place. It may of all started with Soos. The task was simple enough: find the screwdriver. Why? She, being the generous preteen she was, decided to assist Soos with fixing the sink, the Pines family having discovered that the garbage disposal had quit on them. The event had occurred when Dipper was washing the dishes yesterday and the machine decided to abruptly stall with he was scraping chucks into it. Their Grunkle Stan had told Dipper to step aside, since he was "capable of handling this". Apparently he wasn't capable of handling it though, since the disposal roared to life, projecting pieces of shredded food into his face, before halting its activity once more. Stan hadn't been exactly happy about the event and had threatened to "kill" the "darn" machine. He would of succeeded too, if Dipper hadn't convinced him to tell Soos to fix the sink, instead of destroying it. And now, Mabel had traveled down the very same hall that she had went down from that _one_ night. No spine-chilling sights or feelings this time though, much to her releif.

Most of what had been previously stored from the day the twins discovered the room, still sat there, untouched. Stan hadn't wanted anyone stay in that room in the first place, causing him to seem suspiciously protective of it. When questioned, he simply replied with "because I said so" in a voice full of more spite than usual. He had tentatively agreed though, after the twins harassed him for two days straight about it. His only rule for the handyman was not to touch anything or else there would be consequences. Soos's eyes had widened at this, swearing his loyalty aloud for his boss, promising to do no such thing. Stan had simply rolled his eyes, before grumbling about how annoying everyone that entered his life was. Dipper and Mabel weren't even entirely sure what the big deal was. It was just a bunch of random boxes and old, boring keepsakes cluttered together. There was no importance to it. Even that dusty calendar from 1982 was still up, proving the twin's theory that the room didn't seem significant enough to keep maintained. The only differences made were the updated bed sheets and some handyman supplies now being mixed into the mess.

Mabel entered the space and observed the clutter. "Oh boy, this is gonna be a heck of lot harder to find," She groaned. But, then the brunette grinned and placed her hands on her hips. "I'll find it though!"

She began to rummage through Soos's tool box, looking for the well-used gadget. When she didn't find it there, she had begun to tear the blankets off of the bed frame, and shook them out to determine if it was mixed up in them. Nothing there as well. Mabel finally peered under the bed and reached a hand beneath, feeling around. Just some dust bunnies. She giggled aloud at the term. It sounded so cute! The preteen went to stand, but froze when she saw movement in the corner of her eyes. She quickly rolled over onto her back to see if anybody or anything was there. Mabel's heart was thudding in her chest and she no longer felt giggly. The room was empty though. She released a sigh of relief. Mabel went to stand, once more, but stopped. A triumph grin spread across her face. The screwdriver was glinting, from a bit of sun reflecting off of it, under the wardrobe to her left. Mabel army-crawled across the floor, pausing before the ancient thing. She ducked her head under it and grasped the tool she had been seeking. Mabel lifted her head up as she pulled out, but roughly banged her head against it. "Owie!"

There was a quiet creak, as she squatted in place, rubbing the tender area. Mabel ceased her rubbing when she realized that the wardrobe door was what produced the creak. It was open by just a crack and Mabel realized it wasn't even a wardrobe, but in fact a writing desk hidden inside a wardrobe. A secret desk inside a secret room. Excitement welled up inside her. She stood and fully opened the doors to it. On the desk were dust covered papers, with all sorts of physics formulas and chemistry equations sprawled across them. A few books were stacked in one corner, topics ranging from quantum mechanics to the principle of relativity. A vintage Star Trek mug sat in the other corner, featuring the Enterprise from the original television show on it. The mug was filled with chewed up pens and pencils. A large, chipped mirror sat upon the back wall of the closet. Mabel screeched and jumped away when she saw the reflection was not of her own, but of a man. She tripped over a box behind her and the screwdriver flew out from her hand. The preteen immediately scrambled to get back up and peek into the mirror. It was simply her own face.

She turned away as she released a sigh of relief. "Whew! I thought I had turned into a man!"

The brunette whirled back around to further explore the work space, but froze once more. The man had returned, his hands pressed up against the mirror like he was on the other side. His large nose was balanced out by a smooth square chin, a distinct dimple on it. His arms and chest were covered in a tight, black shirt, showing off his muscular figure. The messy brown hair, reminded her of Dipper's, sticking out in random angles, appearing like he didn't brush it ever. Nonetheless, he was young and handsome in appearance. The background of the mirror looked like the room she was in, but the colors were the opposite. They appeared to be darker, as if it were night, instead of day. Oh no. This was not happening.

Two pairs of chocolate eyes stared at each, before Mabel whispered, barely breathing. "W-what are you...?"

A look of disbelief crossed his face as his mouth began to move. Mabel wasn't hear anything though, much to her puzzlement. She studied his lips, attempting to decipher what was coming from them. "Moo, ran, knee, he? Is that Japanese or something?"

He face palmed. Mabel giggled at him, initial fear fading away. "Sorry, it's just I can't really hear you."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then seemed to have an idea, for his face lit up. He breathed heavily onto the glass, causing a dense haze to appear over it. A finger poked through the haze and began to move, creating a message. " 'em ees nac uoy'. What the haydoodle does that mean?"

A arm rubbed vigorously over the message, erasing it. He fogged up the mirror once more, before rewriting the sentence. It read, "You can see me."

"Well duh! Of course I can see you, silly!"

"No one else has fully seen me."

"What does that mean? Are you playing hide-and-go-seek?!" She excitedly asked.

The corners of his mouth tipped upwards at her enthusiasm. "No, none have been _able_ to see me."

"That's weird. Is it because you're hiding in a mirror?"

"I'm not hiding in it. It's just the easiest way for me to see others."

"Wait, have you been spying on everyone in the Shack?"

He frowned. "Not exactly. Well, at least not on purpose."

"Ok, cause I was gonna say that if you've seen me that one night with the puppets...in my room...and I did that one _thing_...yeah, uh, then this conversation is gonna get really awkward, really quick."

He blinked, brows furrowing in confusion. "What thing?"

"Uh, nothing, haha." She replied, obviously suspicious.

The man decided to move on, beginning to feel as if he didn't want to know what she was speaking about. "...I was right when I thought you saw me _that_ night though."

Mabel blinked. "What night?"

"When you dropped your water. I apologize for that by the way. I was simply studying the constellations and the back door was the best place to do that."

"Wait, but that was Grunkle Stan!"

"I'm not sure what a Grunkle is, but I'm guessing you're talking about Stanford Pines. And he appeared in the doorway when you looked."

"What?! That was you? You scared the heck outta me!"

"I apologize, again."

Mabel gave him a thoughtful look. "Wellllllll, I didn't have a heart attack, so it's all good, I guess,"She thought for a moment, before asking. "You know Grunkle Stan?"

"Well," He stopped writing and stared off into the distance. Snapping out of his daze though, he continued on. "I suppose I did, a long time ago."

Mabel wasn't all that sure about that answer. It made her wonder if the age he appeared to be was in fact his actual age. As a matter of fact, she wasn't even sure if he was human. She made a pouty face. And he was so cute too, not fair! If Dipper was here, she was sure he would know right away. Or search for the answer in the journal. Though, she supposed simply asking would probably work as well. "So, what are you? Like a magic mirror man or what?"

"I-"

Mabel's head jerked away before she could finish reading it, due to Soos calling out her name, asking where she could possibly. She suddenly remembered why she even came in there in the first place. Ah, she became distracted. Curse her distractable personality! Mabel whipped her head back to finish reading his message, but saw the fog and writing had vanished already. Well, poo. Mabel would have to find out what was written later. "I have to go now," The man appeared to be dispirited as she told him this, discourage etched onto his young face. The dispiritment appeared to age him, provoking a feeling of familiarity in Mabel at the appearance. She beamed at him though. "Don't worry; I'll come back later!"

And Mabel was gone, leaving the disheartened man all alone, in the darkness, where he had been trapped for decades.

_~!9/1-13/19-20-1-14-12-5-25!~_

Stanford Pines wasn't entirely certain of what was going on in his great-nephew's head, but he knew it wasn't pretty. Dipper had a difficult time focusing on what Stan had recounted to him, but Stan had continued on since it appeared that it had made the preteen relax. After getting to know the twins better over the course of this summer, he came to the conclusion that Dipper was a "worry-wart" as Mabel had dubbed him. Stan had gotten a kick out of that phrase the first time Mabel used it and had later on teased a blushing Dipper about it when she was outside playing with Waddles. The elder man wasn't aware though that the phrase "worry-wart" was an underestimation. The preteen had had a full blown panic attack right in front of him for God's sake! This was beginning to be more serious than what Dipper had led him to initially believe though. This gave reason for Stan to suspect that Dipper had endured several of these attacks in his lifetime, for he acted as if he knew what exactly was needed to calm down. And there was no way in hell that his sister didn't notice either.

Stan frowned at this. He understood that the twins kept secrets (like the journal he had been searching for) and he was alright with that. As long as it didn't put their lives in danger (ok, so the journal put the twins in danger, but that didn't count since the whole town was dangerous). But, for Mabel to not even decide to inform her own great-uncle of Dipper's condition when they lived under his roof pissed him off. He deserved to know. He was their guardian for the summer for crying out loud! And, if he didn't ensure their safety, his nephew would kill him. That brought him to the next topic; did their parents know? Stan realized that his nephew would of never told him though, since they hadn't spoken for over 20 years. It was their mother that had communicated with him, so that the twins could spend the summer here. He wondered though, if them coming over had anything to do with what was going on with Dipper. Why didn't their mother inform him though? He wiped a hand wearily down his face. Stan needed to have a conversation with a certain bubbly preteen and possibly her mother later on.

Not wanting to disturb the sleeping brunet after what he had gone through so recently, he scooped the boy up into his arms, and gently tucked Dipper into his own bed. He immediately rolled onto his side, snuggling his pillow, muttering Wendy's name. Stan rolled his eyes. Dipper's crush on the cashier was so obvious that it sickened Stan. Ugh, young love. He shuddered at the very thought. Wendy obviously saw him as a little brother, and would bet all his money that she would never see him as anything more. Dipper had no chance with her. That Northwest child on the other hand...Stan stroked his chin in thought, a devious idea forming. There seemed to be a ton of money involved if he succeeded with this idea. Later though, he decided. He went to the door, hand resting on the light switch as he observed the snoozing form of his great-nephew. Stan would never admit it to anyone, but he thought of the twins as his own, even though he had known them for only half a summer. That grieved him as he thought about it. His nephew had disliked him so much, that he had never known until recently that the kids even existed. A month ago, Stan would of scoffed at the idea of letting family back into his life again. Now though, he would do anything for them. Even die if he had to. He hadn't been able to feel so much for anyone since he lost the two he treasured most. They had-Stan shook the thoughts that anguished him from his mind. "Night, kid."

The light went out and the door clicked shut. Dipper stared with slitted, drowsy eyes at where his great-uncle had previously stood. A tiny smile curled onto his face as he did so. The brilliant white glow of the moon caused shadows to materialize in the attic. He wasn't anxious though, thanks to Stan. The shape of a triangle rested ominously upon the back of the door. Not anxious at all for the events to come. Dipper closed his eyes.

_Chapter 2 End_

**Chapter 3 will be up sometime next week!**


	4. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

**Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me. And I also have a bit of a warning for this chapter. It's an insult to the mentally handicapped and is only used to convey preconceptions of a time period.  
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Mabel was seated at the oak kitchen table, hands gripping the edges of her chair so tightly, that her fingers turned white. Her posture was rigid, in suspension for what may occur. She gulped nervously as she stared into the face-of-evil. The face-of-evil was, in actuality, her great-uncle glowering at her from the seat across the table, silent as stone. There was a twitching smile present on Mabel's face, that was gradually fading the longer Stan stared her down. She knew exactly what he was doing; putting fear into her before berating her for whatever she had done wrong. Mabel just wasn't sure what she had done wrong this time. It must of been exceedingly unsatisfactory though, due to the amount of venom in his gaze. Yes, Mabel didn't know what she had done, but she was beginning to experience a feeling of disappointment aimed towards herself.

"Uh, Grun-"

"Mabel, why the hell didn't you or your folks find it convenient to tell me that Dipper has panic attacks?"

She cringed at this and her smile completely dropped from her face. So, that was why Grunkle Stan was so pissed off; he had discovered the secret. The one her mom clearly expressed that she should never tell Stanford Pines. There was a fear from her mom that he would send the children back when he discovered that Dipper had some "issues" as her mom had labeled them. Gravity Falls had been so beneficial for Dipper though, that his near everyday anxiety attacks had been eased into a near nonexistent state. There had only been three cases of an attack this summer thus far. One was when Robbie had threatened to beat him up that time when Wendy had gone camping with her family. There was also the night after they had made their escape from the bunker, and finally after Mabel's sock puppet opera that he had his worse one. Those last two were understandable though, since Mabel was shaken up herself afterwards. She knew how she felt about the opera though, was nothing to compared to how Dipper must of felt about a demon possessing his body. And his sister never noticing this fact. Those were thoughts to linger on later though, due to her guilt gradually filling her up. Mabel pitifully hung her head. "...Did Dipper or my parents tell you?"

"Neither, actually. He had a panic attack in front of me."

Her head snapped up at this, chocolate eyes wide. "WHAT?! Is he ok?! What did you say?! Ho-"

"Clam down, will you? He's ok now. Just sleeping. I don't know what happened, but he came to me all upset, asking for you."

Mabel appeared stricken. Stan had never encountered such an expression on the exuberant preteen before. If she was that concerned by her brother, where was she? "So..._Where_ were you?"

Her face abruptly switched to a secretive appearance. "Uh, I was just, uh helping Soos all day today."

Stan detected a lie mingled into that statement. The man was a conman for a reason. He decided not to push it at the moment though, since he had bigger fish to fry. His irritation had evolved to anticipation by this point. "Ok...uh can you...y-you explain this _thing_ about Dipper?"

A look dismay had taken over her appearance, another surprising thing to witness. Mabel's emotions seemed to be bouncing all around. The older man accounted it to her concern about her twin brother though. "Dipper...Dipper has always been a worry-wart about...about everything. He was b-born like that. It got...it got pretty bad though," Her voice was beginning to shake a bit. "He kept having...t-those attacks and, uh well Mom and Dad had t-take him to a doctor after, uh this really bad one...H-he said Dipper had..." Mabel actually had to pause to swallow down the growing urge to cry and take control of her emotions."G-Gener...generalized anxiety disorder."

Stan licked his lips nervously. He had no idea what that was and was confident he would not like the answer to that question he was about to ask. "And, uh, w-what is that?"

"Um, when...when somebody has, uh is super worried a lot...and, um panics about it...T-They...they made him stay at a hos...hospital for a while and, uh tried giving him...medi-medicene, but it stopped w-working..."

Stan could tell his grand-niece was having a difficult time elucidating the situation and he himself was having a difficult time understanding it. He knew this was a fragile topic though that needed to be thought on. Back in his day, the people that went to mental hospitals or were medicated for their behavior were inhumanely classified by society as "retarded" or even "freaks". It was the norm and no one thought it any bad to label someone as such. Stan remembered the stories of what went on in these "asylums" and the fear of simply having an odd characteristic would place him in one of those and be rejected by all that knew. No one thought it bad if these people were being punished for how they were though, as long as it didn't affect themselves. That was just how it was back then. He still felt lingering unease about those stories, even though he knew that they were treated much more humanly now. In the end, it was common knowledge that all these prejudices were nonsense and these individuals were just like anyone else. Growing up in the 30s and 40s though, had made certain preconceptions be embedded into his mind until the day he would die.

"Is...he like, uh you know?" Stan nervously began, feeling concern flare in his heart about the idea.

Mabel frowned, trying to make sense of what was being asking. "No?"

"Like, uh...retar-"

Mabel immediately identified the beginning of the word, having this not be the first time someone had attempted to use it. The twins had had their fair share of school tormenters in their 13 years of life and knew what usually went on in their minds. She was completely caught by surprise though, that her great-uncle would even attempt to say such an appalling thing. "NO."

Stan jolted at the abnormal amount of venom in her tone. "Then...why is he like uh, like all screwed up in the head?"

Mabel stared at him blankly for a minute or so as Stan waited for her answer. "...Great-uncle Stanford, I think I'm gonna go to bed."

Then, without even answering his question, she left the kitchen. Stan sat there, trying to make sense of what happened. There was a feeling of astonishment of how Mabel addressed him before going upstairs, but even worse was the dawning realization of what had been running through his head and what had came out of his mouth. Stan ran a hand down his face, releasing a sigh. Even though he had been influenced by society back in his day, Stan was able to learn over time that what everyone said wasn't necessarily true. The man had changed his discrimination against those individuals by simply learning to tolerant them. There had now been additional change in his view though, now that someone related to him had an issue. Why the hell did Stan even think that Dipper was screwed up though? There was absolutely nothing wrong with his great-nephew, he simply needed help. There must have been something wrong with Stan though. The worse things always came out of his mouth. "Augh, I'm so stupid."

_~!14-15-20/2-18-15-11-5-14!~_

Breakfast was a tense affair the next morning, with the whole family displaying varying expressions on their faces. Stan peered guiltily at his great-niece, while she in turn scowled murderously at her scrambled eggs, stabbing them viciously with her fork. He gulped. Stan knew he screwed up big time last night, as per usual it seemed. Mabel could strike fear into him when she had the desire to, at that desire was quite present at the moment. There had to be a way to fix this situation. Dipper on the other hand, was alternating between blushing in embarrassment at his great-uncle, due to the events of yesterday, and shooting confused glances at his sister about her uncommon behavior. Yes, overall, it was an awkward meal for the Pines.

"Well, uh I-I think we should open shop now!" Stan broke the silence and avoided eye contact with Mabel, who had turned her murderous gaze to him.

Dipper's eyes flickered in between the both of them, realizing some incident had occurred between the two of them, possibly when he was sleeping. He felt worry that he might be the cause, but immediately squashed that thought, berating himself for thinking everything revolved around himself. Dipper decided to avoid asking what was going on and instead made his way to the store, following Stan, while peering over his shoulder at his still sitting sister. It was just as Soos came in for work, helping prepare for opening, that Mabel decided to join the others. Stan pointedly ignored the burning sensation of being watched from behind and flipped over the "OPEN" sign. He frowned as he examined the store. "Corduroy is late, _again_."

Dipper discreetly smiled at this as he unlocked the cash register. Wendy had not been on time once since she was originally hired. Stan only kept her since no one in town trusted egotistical Mr. Mystery enough to work for him. That, and the pay was the worse in the state, coming in at only $1.08. Wendy only worked there though, due to her father insisted she work like her brothers, instead of sitting around all summer. It was at this moment, that Wendy strolled in and causally waved to everyone. "Hey, guys."

Stan glowered at her. "You're late, _again_!"

Wendy smiled. "Good morning to you, too, Stan."

His eyes narrowed. "What did I tell you about calling me that? I'm your boss, Corduroy!"

"Look, 'boss'," She used her fingers to make quote marks as she said this. "Are you going to stand here all day, yelling at me about how late I am, or you going to take care of the customers?" She asked, causally pointing a thumb over her shoulder.

Through the window of the gift shop, an elderly couple, that clearly were not from around the area, were milling about. They didn't seem to even notice the Shack as they took photographs of the trees in the area. Stan's mood lifted considerably, forgetting his about his employee, and smacked his hands together with a conspiring look. Without a moment ado, he went outside beginning his rehearsed speech. "Welcome, to the great and mysterious Mystery Shack!"

Wendy went behind the cash register and smirked at Dipper. Dipper smirked back at her. A crisp smack came from the HI-5 given to each other, as Dipper complimented her distraction. "You really know how to get rid of Grunkle Stan."

"Yeah, he's pretty easy to trick. You just have to mention cash and-oh my god, did I tell you that time I was closing up the shop and I heard some like noises in the back, so I went to investigate and found Stan like making out with a dollar?"

Dipper started laughing as he imagined this."No way!"

"Yes way! He was all like slobbering all over it!" Wendy told him. There was a pause as they visualized this disturbing idea, before both stared at each other, and shuddered. "Let'ssss talk about something else."

"How about how much of a douche Great-Uncle Stanford is?" Mabel coldly interrupted from a display rack of tacky postcards next to the cashier register.

Wendy and Dipper both gawked at Mabel in shock. Neither were even aware that Mabel used that type of language, much less about Stan. The twins were adamantly against cussing or using vulgar language in general. In fact, they even had a cuss jar, that occasionally Wendy had to put change in, and Stan regularly dropped pennies with mutterings of complaints. But, Mabel calling Stan a 'douche' surprised Dipper to no end though. Using his full name as well further astonished him. He thought over the words and suddenly felt anger swell up in himself. Grunkle Stan may of been a lot of things, but he didn't think the man was a 'douche'. "Ok, Mabel, ever since you woke up this morning, you've been all grumpy, and I don't know why! What's going on?!"

Mabel gulped, immediately feeling guilty now that she caused her brother to get upset. She stood by her statement though and wasn't going to suddenly change her mind. Stan had no right to call her own brother that vile word. And Mabel didn't want to cause Dipper to become aware that Stan had nearly condemned that name to him. "Nothing! Nothing at all!"

Dipper marched up to her, having none of the usual anxiety coursing through his veins at the moment. "No, you're going to tell me why you're acting like this right now!"

Wendy knew this fight was beginning to escalate and needed to calm them down quick. She stepped near them, hands set in a placating gesture. "Now, wait a second, guys, we sh-"

Mabel yelled right over her though. "There's nothing to tell! Leave me alone!"

Mabel had began to turn away, but Dipper wasn't having any of it. He grabbed her shoulder, swinging her back around, and getting right into her face. "Mabel, stop being ridiculous and tell me what is going on! You're acting like a stupid immature kid an-"

"You wanna know what's going on?! Fine! What's going is that I told him about your anxiety and he called YOU A RETARD!" Mabel screamed back.

There was an stunned moment of silence as Dipper took in what she had released into the air. Then, suddenly remembering that Wendy was there, he turned to look at her. A dumbfounded face was on the ginger and he blushed in humiliation. The brunet's eyes welled with tears, before he suddenly sprinted out the front door. Stan turned from the potential customers, as he heard the screen door slam shut behind him. Dipper was barreling towards Stan and he attempted to intercept the upset preteen. Dipper clawed at the thick arms wrapped around him, causing the man to release his grip. He shoved Stan away and sprinted into the forest of Gravity falls, leaving all to stand in stunned silence.

_~!-?-!~_

"What the hell is going on?!"

Wendy gaped at Stan and Mabel. "Um, I think I should, uh go."

She began to inch towards the front door, but was halted in her efforts as Stan grasped the back of her button down shirt collar. "Oh, no, you're staying here Wendy Linda Corduroy!"

She gulped, knowing that this was really serious. Wendy wasn't even aware that Stan knew her middle name. "L-Look, Mr. Pines, this sounds like a family thing, and, I don't think he even wanted me to hear about _that_ and, uh I probably shouldn't be anymore involved and like I doubt that Dipper wants me to hear anything more, an-"

"What _did_ you hear?"

"Urhhhh, t-that he has...a-anxiety." She finished in a whisper.

Stan let go of her and swiped a hand across his, what appeared to be weary, face. "Yeah, the kid does," His tone resumed its bitterness in the next part of his statement. "And if you tell anyone that, I wi-"

Wendy appeared hurt. She would never judge Dipper for an issue that wasn't even his fault. And he was her friend! Wendy would never reveal that unless he gave his consent to do so. "What? No, of course not! I would never do that!"

"Ok, ok, I believe you, now get out; you're done for today."

Wendy peered at Mabel. A curtain of hair hid her face, as her head hung. Stan stepped in front of Wendy, blocking her view of the brunette. "I said go home, Corduroy."

Wendy hurriedly removed herself from the property, as Stan turned to observe the unmoving preteen. "Ok, look, I understand what I said was completely uncalled for. I know. I just wanna tell you though that...uh, I'm not sure how to handle all..._this_," He informed her, gesturing to the air. "And, Kid, I...c-care about you two and I'm going to make up saying that to the both of you. Now, I don't know what happened, but I think I should go look for your brother. You can either sit here and sulk, or you can come help me." Stan concluded, feeling confident once more. Mabel gave no indication that she heard though. "...Ok, well, I'm gonna go now and when I come back, you and me are gonna have a talk about what happened."

He slammed the screen door shut as he sprinted into the forest, fearing that Dipper would have a panic attack in the forest, all alone.

_~!-?-!~_

Dipper had flopped down onto a fallen log, breathing heavily from, not only his journey from the Shack, but also nerves. He was delicately cradling his elbow, wincing at the pain in it, and watched red drip from in between his fingers. In his hurry to escape the Shack, Dipper had tripped over an exposed root, landing harshly on his side. His forearm had received the brunt of the fall on the harsh terrain, but only his elbow appeared to be steadily bleeding. The blood though seemed to produce a soothing effect, easing his hyperventilating and made him avoid the thoughts of Wendy's face, along with what his Grunkle Stan supposedly said. He was so consumed in attempting to ease his anxiety, that he didn't hear the crying until that moment though.

Dipper frowned, and studied the clearing. The pine trees surrounding said clearing, blocked most of the sunlight. Patches of it filtered through though, giving the impression that the grass was gleaming. Gnats lethargically floated about. There wasn't anyone in the area though. The brunet heard the sobs come from his left, in a thick gathering of pine trees. He wasn't all that sure if he should investigate the noise or not. It might of been some monster, tempting him with fake distressed sobs of a human, hoping to consume his scrawny body. Dipper shuddered at the thought, panic rising in him. He took a deep breath though and listened intently. Dipper was beginning to believe that it wasn't fake. The crying sounded genuine and it concerned him to hear anyone sound as distressed as this person seemed to be. He finally gathered his courage and cautiously made his way over there, swatting at the obnoxious insects.

Even though branches snapped noisily underneath Dipper's feet, the unknown person didn't cease their weeping. They might of been too consumed with grief to notice. He knew exactly how that felt, since most of the time his anxiety got the best of him, blocking all else from his overwhelmed senses. Dipper stopped before a bush, discovering that the crying was behind it. Dipper was beginning to, once more, think this was a bad idea. For whatever reason though, he forced aside part of the bush to expose who was there, attempting to believe that everything would be alright. Everything was not alright though, since he was not prepared for who it was.

It was Gideon Gleeful.

_Chapter 3 End_

**Originally, I wasn't going to add Gideon in this story, but I changed my mind. I haven't decided on how big of a role he'll have right now though. By the way, I took Wendy's middle name from her voice actress, Linda Cardellini. Anyways, thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

**Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me. **

Mabel felt such a crippling wave of guilt encompass her, that her knees nearly gave out below her from the force of it. Her Grunkle Stan no longer stood before her and she briefly wondered when that had occurred. She had recollection of hearing garbled words from him, recognizing the timbre of his voice, but hadn't comprehended what was spoken. She was in too much of daze at the realization of what had been done merely minutes ago. Mabel couldn't even believe she told Dipper what had been said earlier, much less in front of the teenager he had a crush on. She staggered into the hall separating the shop from the living quarters and stumbled into a table sitting against the wall. Mabel distantly thought about her leg probably having a bruise on it later, but then realized she didn't care in the slightest. She rigidly gripped the sides of it to steady herself. Her hands were trembling though, causing it to become difficult to get a proper grip.

The lighting was subdued in this hallway, with the only source of it from the door leading to the shop, being slighting cracked open. Mabel could see the barest outline of her face though on the vintage mirror set up above the table. She stared her reflection in the eyes and felt self-loathing well-up inside her very soul. One would think she was completely overacting, since this was a problem that could be easily fixed, but she feared it wouldn't turn out to be all that fixable in the end. She knew she screwed up significantly and was concerned with thoughts of what her brother would do all alone in the forest. The self-loathing increased full force and Mabel thought back on a day similar to this. She thought back to a year ago, back at her home in Piedmont. It had been a fairly typical day, at the beginning of the 6th grade. The twins had rode the bus, as per usual, to get to school. Mabel had stayed after school for art club that day though, while Dipper rode the bus back home. If she wasn't so absorbed in herself and her stupid after school activities, she would of realized that _that_ event would have occurred. Mabel would of realized that she would have come home to discover that h-

She flinched at the realization that she was no longer alone and that her reflection was not of her own. In the mirror, was the handsome man from the mysteriously hidden room. This time though, he held one of those washable blue Crayola markers in his right hand. A perturbed look crossed his face as he began to write across the mirror. "Are you alright?"

Mabel nodded fervently, a forced smile plastered to her face as she did so. The man appeared unconvinced as her smile lacked the usual spark in it and she knew that it did."I'm ok, I was just thinking about something...I'm sorry I didn't come yesterday."

The man still was evidently not convinced about the first half of the statement, but decided to move on when it was clear that she would not elaborate any further. He swiped across the mirror with a ratty wash cloth, erasing his previous message. "That's alright. You said you would come see me again, and now I have instead."

The smile was genuine now, the spark returned to it. "This sounds like one of those romantic reunion movies!"

The man laughed silently at her and lifted his left hand to reveal a ring on his finger. "First of all, you're too young for me. Secondly, I'm married."

"OMG, is there a mirror lady?!"

"No, no, there isn't. I'm not sure why you're so keen on this 'mirror people' idea. I don't actually live in the mirror."

"Well, yo-" Mabel cut herself off as she read what he wrote.

"I'm actually stuck in-between two worlds in a way."

She tilted her head. "...Whattttt?"

"I'll explain. Do you know Alice in Wonderland?"

"Yeah! It's that one movie where the girl goes to Wonderland and all those weird things happen to her. I love that one!"

"Yes, well that is the best way to explain my situation right now. In a way, I'm stuck in the 'rabbit hole' leading to Wonderland. Half way to that fantasy land and have way in reality."

Mabel thought on that. It made perfect sense to her. "So, you're just...stuck?"

His reflection nodded. A thought occurred to her though, sending a shiver down her spine. "...a-are you a...ghost?"

He frowned. "I don't think so."

He didn't think so? He wasn't even fully aware if he was alive or dead. _What if he was?_ Stuck between the land of the living and the land of the dead, never to escape his fate. Mabel began to feel a cold sweat break out on her. This wouldn't be the first time this had happened to her. It happened more regularly than she would care to admit. She wasn't even sure why she was surprised by this point though. After all, Mabel had always been able to see things that no one else was able to. Her breath ceased as her heart skipped a beat. This was not good. This was not good at all. She needed to get out of there right now. A smile was tensely plastered onto her face. "I s-should go."

He was able to see straight through her though and she knew it. "You're afraid."

Mabel cringed. He frowned and began to write more. "There isn't any reason to be. I'm positive that I'm not a ghost."

Her heart was thudding and she felt that he could hear it due to how loud it was. That's exactly what ghosts have claimed in the past to her. She needed to get out of here right _now_. Mabel couldn't even leave though; she was paralyzed by a mounting fright. The man attentively studied her, before asking. "How are you related to Stanford?"

"I-I-"

"Please, just tell me, I'm not here to cause any harm. I can see that you and your brother are related to him though, since you look similar to how he looked as a kid."

Mabel was trembling, unsure if she should answer. There was the fear though that he would grow angry and hurt her if she didn't. That wouldn't be a first either. "I...I'm his g-great-niece."

He gave her a startled look, causing Mabel to nearly release a whimper. "Is Alexander Pines your father?"

Her stomach dropped as she registered the question. "How d-did y-you know t-that?"

He appeared hesitant for but a moment, before confidently continuing on. "I wasn't sure if I could completely trust you, but I'm certain that I can now. My name is Stanley Pines Jr. Your dad is my son."

"S-Son?"

"Yes. I guess in other words, I'm, well, your grandfather."

Mabel's tense smile grew, until her cheeks hurt. Grandfather? _Grandfather?_ _GRANDFATHER?_ She then promptly passed out.

"Well, this is problematic."

_~!20-23-9-14-19/18-21-14/9-14/16-1-9-18-19!~_

Gideon Gleeful and Dipper Pines stared at each other. Dipper stood there, cradling his injured arm, hat missing from his head. He momentarily wondered when he had lost it, but quickly dismissed the thought from his head when he focused once more on him. Gideon was curled into a ball, knees to chest. His pudgy arms were tucked against his chest, hands curled around each other, as if holding something there protectively. His cheeks had splotches of red, eyes puffy from crying. His eyes. They were a deep, cobalt blue. Weren't they usually a lighter color than that? Tears drizzling down his freckled face. His normally perfect hair was lopsided and had stray pieces sticking out in every which direction. Overall, he didn't appear as the usually creepy little boy that Dipper had grown accustomed to. He wasn't sure if this surprised him more or if the fact that Gideon wasn't in jail at the moment like he was supposed to be was. Dipper was going to ask about that, he truly was. Instead though, his question came out as something different.

"Is this the part were you try to kill me again?"

Dipper received no answer though, as the distant voice of Stan calling for Dipper interrupted them. He sounded desperate, startling Dipper. He whirled around, searching for the man, but to no avail. The forest was all too dense to locate the elder man. He turned back when he heard underbrush crunching, to see that Gideon was gone. The brunet froze. It was almost like the 10-year-old had never been there in the first place. Dipper sucked in a shuddering breath, pushing down the rising panic. He could not have an attack here. There was no need to overreact about simply imagining someone being there with him. Dipper nearly screamed when he thought that statement. He did **not** see things! That was Mabel and no one else!...He only occasionally heard things in the darkness of the night, lurking in the back of hi-

"Dipper?" Stan was now gripping his shoulders and staring down at him. When did Grunkle Stan get here? The brunet thought he sounded worried, but his appearance screamed to him that he was more pissed off than anything.

"G-Grunkl-" Dipper began, but was interrupted.

"What the hell happened to your arm?"

Dipper gazed down at it and realized it was still bleeding. It actually appeared to be worse than before. The whole side of his forearm was scratched to high hell and both of his hands stung from the various cuts scattered across them. It didn't help that his knees were skidded up as well from the fall. He frowned. That couldn't be good. He might have to go to the hospital for his elbow. Just like after Mabel's silly sock opera, he had to go to the hospital to have his stab wounds from the forks sewn up. This time though, he wouldn't have to lie about where the bruises and other marks came from. He wouldn't have to squash down the guilt that he was the cause of the suspicious looks from the medical officials given to Stan. He wouldn't have to adamantly lie, so that Stan wouldn't be accused of abuse and they would be sent back home to Piedmont. "I-I tripped."

Stan narrowed his eyes at the 13-year-old. When Stan had to take Dipper to the hospital after that sock puppet opera Mabel had conducted, he was skeptical about the whole situation. He understood that most of the bruises likely came from that fall the twins had had. Mabel had to be checked over as well, revealing some bruising from her fall. Stan assumed that Dipper naturally had more bruising, due to him hitting the stage first. That was completely understandable. What wasn't understandable though, were the stab marks. Dipper claimed, when the nurse questioned him, that some wood pierced his skin when he hit the stage. Stan immediately picked up on the lie though. He wasn't a conman without reason. After avoiding the suspicious questions and Dipper being stitched up, he had asked him about it in the car. The preteen had simply repeated the claim though and Stan had eyed Mabel as he did so. She had been frowning. Stan knew then that his suspicions were right, due to Dipper's sister detecting it as well. He could tell that Dipper knew what he was thinking at the moment though. "I-I'm not lying. I tripped over a root."

Stan decided now was not the time to decide how truthful he was being, it was more important to assess his injuries. "Kid, how long has that been bleeding?"

Dipper shrugged, not knowing precisely how long he had sat on that log. The elder man delicately took Dipper's arm into his hands. The brunet cringed as Stan inspected it. The elder sighed. "You're gonna need stitches on your elbow it looks like...You and your sister cost a lot of money, you know."

"At least I don't waste the tip jar money to buy a bunch of socks and wood for a musical."

"That's where all the money in there has been going?!"

Dipper laughed, feeling more like himself again. "She said she asked you and that it was ok."

"Well, that's just something more I have to talk to her about when I return!"

Dipper laughing unexpectedly came to a halt. The nervousness had returned. "...Grunkle Stan?"

Stan was now inspecting Dipper's left hand. "What?"

"Mabel said...some..._things_ back at the Shack."

He was rotating Dipper's hand to see if the bones in his wrist were alright. "Yeah, like what?"

"Like...that she told you about my...a-anxiety."

Stan took the preteen's other hand and began to do the same thing. "...Yeah, kid, she did."

"Oh..."

Stan squatted down after a moment, joints creaking, and preceded to prod the injured knees. Dipper observed the top of Stan's head, waiting to see if he would say anything more about the that. He didn't though. Dipper wasn't able to hold it in anymore, blurting out his next statement. "She also said that you said that I'm 'retarded'!"

Stan ceased his prodding and tenderly stood, patting the dirt from his trousers. This was delicate terrain and if he wasn't careful, this could blow up in his face. "Kid, you like history, don't you?"

Dipper wasn't sure where this was going, but he nodded anyway. Stan continued on. "Have you ever seen one of those old coots that complain about black people?"

Dipper nodded in reply. Stan decided this was in fact the right way to go about this. "You know they're like that, because everyone back in their day thought that black people weren't any good, right?"

"Yeah, that's what my teachers have said."

"Well, I was like that. Well, not exactly racist, but some...other things." Stan informed him.

Dipper appeared to be uncomfortable at this statement. "W-What are you talking about?"

"Ok, look, there were some, uh others, besides blacks and gays, that were considered...no good. And I was told by my p-pops for a long time that they weren't any good, so I just believed it. But, when I realized that it was stupid, I had a hard time getting over those habits. H-he wasn't all that big on blacks and gays, sure, but didn't make me as fearful about them as...with those o-others."

Dipper stared at him in surprise. "I-I thought you weren't scared of anything."

"Well, kid, I...I am. And the one thing my pop made me fear the most were people that were...h-handicaps...those people were listed as...as well s-stupid." Stan told his great-nephew. He was undoubtedly having a difficult time telling him any of this. "And, well, kid, when people tell you a thing for a long time, you start to get it...uh, stuck in your head. Being told that kid over there in the, uh wheelchair should be should mocked and the...kid that wants to...k-kill himself should be made fun of...and when your pop tells you...t-that those people were re...reta...well, you know...it really gets to you. And I sorta wanna tell you that, sometimes...I-I say thing I don't mean, because they just...got stuck in my head...Do you, uh understand that?"

The brunet thought about what he was told. His Grunkle Stan was plainly regretful for what he had said earlier. And the reasoning made sense. You get pressured by everyone to think a certain way about someone and even if you shake off that pressure, you sometimes have a hard time rewiring your brain to say the right words. "...I...I think I get what you're saying."

"Good...I want to tell you something I've noticed over the years though."

"What?"

"That people are a bunch of bastards."

"Uh, is that supposed to be inspirational?"

"No, this is: Blacks, gays, and handicaps, are all normal people, just like me and you. And anyone that says otherwise is stupid."

Dipper blinked a few times, face a portrait of amazement. What Grunkle Stan told him just now was actually pretty inspirational, though the wording was unorthodox. Who knew his great-uncle had the ability to state such a thing? He knew though that wasn't just meant to be inspirational though. "So, in other words, you're sorry and didn't mean it?"

"...Whatever you think I said, kid."

A smile made its way onto Dipper's face at that. "I forgive you."

"Well, let's head back now. Looks like I have to drive you to the hospital. Again."

Stan began the trek back to the Mystery Shack, grumbling about how expensive the summer was turning out to be. Dipper though, remained behind, as he glanced over his shoulder. The forest was as peaceful as it had ever been, with all those mysteries hidden within. No Gideon Gleeful to be seen. Did he imagine it? Had he even really been there? He wasn't all that sure anymore. After a moment, Dipper sprinted to catch Stan, attempting to keep up with his longer strides. What did it matter anyways? He knew that even if he was imagining things, he knew his sister and great-uncle would be there to guide and support him along the way...How could of he known though, that they needed as much support as he did, silently screaming for relief from the events in their lifetime that perpetually tormented them?

_Chapter 4 End_

**Sorry for the OC!Stan. I tried my best with how I thought he would react in the situation. Anyways, I was really unsatisfied with the prologue and first two chapters after I posted chapter 3, so I updated them and I would appreciate if you viewers go back and read them. Please and thank you! :)**


	6. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

**Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me.**

A face of perplexity settled on Dipper, as he cradled his throbbing elbow, beholding the sight before him. Mabel laid on the tile floor, under the window of the kitchen. Sleeping. Waddles sat next to her, nudging her arm with his chubby snout. He wasn't sure what had happened, but he had to admit it was pretty endearing once he got other the strange state he had discovered his sister in. Watching the display caused him to focus less on the pain in his elbow and the the thoughts of that disappearance act Gideon Gleeful apparently had performed in the forest earlier. She began to curl up on her side, hand sluggishly swatting at her pig. Waddles, in return, scooted closer and began to nudge the back of her head. Dipper laughed, surprised at how much more adorable the scene had gotten wh-Mabel was drooling all over the floor. He made a face. Not adorable. "Ew, Mabel."

Just then, Stan entered the kitchen, keys in hand. He narrowed his eyes when he noticed what Mabel was up to. "That better not be drool."

Dipper knew if he confirmed the answer he would probably not like the man's reply. "Uh, Grunkle Stan? Should we go now? I think it stopped bleeding, but it still hurts."

That got Stan's attention. "Alright, alright, quit your complaining." Stan ordered him as they migrated outside.

Dipper wasn't all that surprised at the condition of the '65 Cadillac Sedan was in at the moment. The vehicle was encrusted with fresh bird crap, causing Stan to glower at his Stanley Mobile. "Ugh, those damn-uh, darn rats with wing."

"Grunkle Stan, I already know your cuss," Dipper informed the elder man as they settled in. Stan grumbled something that sounded like "shut it" in reply as he shoved the key in, bringing the ignition to life with a pathetic rumble. He frowned as it rattled nosily, before pounding his fist on the dashboard, effectively silencing it. "Really, its not too big of a deal.

"Look, I'm your guardian for the summer so I have to be 'good'." Stan enlightened him, using fingers for quote marks. Both of their seat belts went into the buckle with a 'click'.

Dipper raised a eyebrow. "We spent the night in a jail cell. I'm pretty sure that cussing is nothing compared to that."

"I though you hated cussing?" Stan questioned, as they made way down the road.

"I do. But, I'm not two, I can handle hearing cuss words. What are you so worried about anyways?"

"I ain't worried about nothing. I just doubt your folks would want you to come home with some new vocab."

"If they didn't freak out about the jail thing, which actually surprises me since Dad is so strict, then I doubt me cussing will bug them."

Stan gulped guiltily, eyes shifting to the side for a moment. "Yep, they definitely thought it was alright."

Dipper frowned deeply. "...you didn't tell them, did you?"

Stan could lie about anything. Expect on the topic of his nephew. "...Look, I just didn't think that they wo-"

"Oh my god! You never told them!"

"Kid, its not much of a big deal, I jus-"

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygo-"

Dipper was bordelining a panic attack within a few seconds of the revelation. Stan began to reply, but was cut off each time the preteen repeated his statement. He frowned, before pulling off to the side of the road, knowing he needed to calm Dipper before his anxiety overwhelmed him. He turned to his great-nephew, right arm settling on the top of the seat. His chest violently heaved, mouth gaped open with a face of shock. "Kid...Dipper. Dipper. DIPPER!"

Dipper jolted from the moment of hysteria, eyes wide, but effectively silenced. Stan decided to continue on, now that he had his attention. "Its ok. You and Mabel didn't get hurt, so there wasn't any reason to tell them."

"What do you mean 'there wasn't any reason'?!" Dipper blurted in a frenzy. Oh god, He was screwed. Disappointing his parents was the worse development for him to even imagine. And even disappointing them as much as to go to jail was much worse than would he could imagine. His parents would be upset about this development when they discovered it.

"Look, you don't actually have to tell them nothing. They would be none the wiser if yo-"

"I can't! It would drive me insane if I didn't tell them! I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, _I can't, I CA-_" Dipper's voice was rising in volume, hysteria returning.

"Alright, alright! If you have to tell them, at least wait until the two of you get back!"

Dipper paused in his repetition, taking deep breathes to calm his nerves. In, Out. In, Out. In, Out. Out, In. Out, In. That had been a close call, as he had nearly completely went off the deep end. He knew that doing so would of been a nightmare for his great-uncle. Dipper would never subject him to that, fully knowing that Mabel was capable of dealing with those moments. Now that his head wasn't so foggy though, he realized he could inform his parents of that situation when the summer was over and done with. If he just didn't think about it now, then he wouldn't panic. Put the worry off until later. He imagined jamming all of his concerns into a mental closet, and shoving the door shut. He'll open that door later on. He wasn't sure why Stan wanted for him to put it off until later though. "Uh, w-why?"

"It would just, uh be easier."

"How would it be easier to tell later?"

"It just would, now shut up, we're almost there." Stan ordered him, before pulling the vehicle back onto the road. Dipper still wasn't understanding why he would want the situation to be told later. He supposed that for the time being, all would be well. He just hoped that his parents wouldn't be too upset upon the revelation. That made him wonder what else Stan had conveniently not inform his parents of. Did his parents even know know about the the injuries he and his sister had received from the opera? He suspected they didn't. And now he had to get them again, hiding more than one trip to the hospital. They parked in a handicap space, front of the Stanley Mobile producing a dent in the pole of the sign. Stan placed the photocopied and laminated parking pass onto the rear view mirror, before removing himself from the vehicle, as smoke rose from underneath the engine's hood.

_~!4-5-19-20-18-15-25/20-8-5/5-22-9-12!~_

"Kid, how old are you? Like, 8?"

"I just turned 13 this summer, Grunkle Stan. You asked me the same thing last time we were here 5 days ago." Dipper told him, rolling his eyes. That reminded him, those stitches on his arm needed to be removed since they were already here at the hospital. They were in the waiting room, Stan, much to his dismay, forced to fill out a form for Dipper.

"Well, why don't you fill this out yourself if you're gonna act lik-Oh, that's right, you can't, can you? So, why don't you stop being rude kid, and just answer the questions without all that talkback."

Dipper glared at Stan, but the elder was already back to filling it out. Much to his surprise, Stan didn't ask anymore questions in the span of nearly 15 minutes he filled the form out. He recalled Stan had asked a lot more questions last time he was doing one for him and Mabel. He had better not be writing down bullcrap, instead of his correct information. "Do you even know what I'm allergic to?"

Stan turned the clipboard to him, raising a eyebrow at his great-nephew's tone. "What do you think, kid?"

Dipper saw that the word, "Penicillin" was written in the cursive handwriting Stan used, on the black space. Evidently it seemed that his great-uncle had remembered nearly all of his information. Dipper blushed, embarrassed that he naturally assumed that Stan would recall as much as he obviously did. Neither didn't say anything else, until they were called in. They were brought to a examination room by the same nurse as last time they had the last time they had come. She assessed his wounds, before nodding to herself. "Well, it looks like we'll have to put stitches you, again, dearie."

Dipper nodded in reply, before she removed herself from the room to fetch the doctor. Stan was settled into the corner, intently reading a TV guide. He then muttered something about one of his shows. Dipper rolled his eyes and glanced over at the sink. It was in the shape of a triangle. What? That was weird. Why would someone make a a sink like that? This was like the 8th time this week he had seen a tr- The doctor entered. He blinked and then frowned at her. Her golden triangle earrings glinted in the light. That was another triangle. Feeling a bit unnerved, he looked to Stan, hoping for reassurance. He was still focused on the TV guide. Why was he surprised? Dipper jumped when he felt the prick of a shot in his bicep. "Now, that numb you so you won't feel a thing. I'll just take out these old stitches and apply the new ones to your elbow, ok?"

Dipper absent mindlessly nodded, observing her earrings. The golden light reminded him of another triangle he had last scene nearly a week ago. The triangle that had tricked him into giving up his body in exchange from a hint for that stupid password. _How about you let me give you a hint, huh?_ He felt a brief tug at his left arm, as the doctor swiftly removed the stitching. It didn't hurt per say, but produced a slight stinging on his healed over stab wounds. She seemed to approve of the healing, a face of satisfaction. Dipper felt uncomfortable at the sight of the scars on his pale flesh though. They just reminded him of the opera. She continued on, cleansing the blood from his new injury. Dipper watched as she applied the new stitches. It was as gross as the first time. He focused his gaze back on Stan. He had a bored expression on his face as he continued his reading. He had that face a lot. Why was he always so bored looking? Was it his default face? Or was it just hiding a different expression? And why was there a triangle on the front of the guide? He shook his head. There was no need to over analyze everything. It was a common shape, no need to associate it with _that_ dream demon.

"I'm finished, Dipper," She frowned at his palms. "I should clean those hands, too."

She pulled a cotton ball from a clear jar, dipping it in medical alcohol from the sink counter. He presented his hands to her and she preceded to rub the ball across them. The doctor finally squatted down to get a better view of his scratched knees. She presented him with the option of either flaming triangles or Hello Kitty bandaids. Dipper felt a cold sweat cover him as he studied the flaming triangles. _Did you miss me? Admit it, you missed me._ Nope. Finally, he chose the Hello Kitty ones and she covered his knees in them. "There! You should be good now. Just be careful when you're playing in the woods next time."

Dipper grunted in reply, before the doctor left. Stan immediately hopped up. "We done? Great, let's go."

The magazine was tossed back onto the triangle-shaped side table, before Stan waltzed out. Dipper gulped thickly as he stared at the table. He had caught the glimpse of the bold lettering of yesterday's newspaper, below the guide. He wasn't sure what was possibly worse; the idea of a certain triangle dream demon returning to further haunt him, or this predicament. He shivered as he realized who he thought he imagined in the forest today, was actually not his imagination. **GIDEON GLEEFUL RELEASED FROM PRISON**. He followed his great-uncle.

_~!-?-!~_

Mabel was no longer passed out on the kitchen floor, or even in the house for that matter. Waddles appeared to be absent as well. Stan knew exactly why his grand-niece was no longer present. It was her attempt of avoiding the eventual conversation they would have on the events as of late. They would be having that conversation soon though, Stan promised himself. Dipper left, mumbling a subdued 'good night'. Stan accounted it to the painkiller given to him. Hopefully he wouldn't have to wait as long as he usually did for his great-nephew to fall asleep, so that he could sneak into the laboratory. He removed his fez and set it on the side table, next to the reclining seat. He would wait about half an hour until he would go down to the lab, he decided, just to be sure that Dipper was completely asleep. He needed to do a few adjustments on the portal and further study one section of the photocopies on Journal 3. For now though, he would enjoy the showing of "The Duchess Approves: 2".

About 2 hours later, Stan entered the lab. Clad in his household attire, he sat in his swivel chair, listening to the distinct humming produced by the portal. He was honestly surprised that it hadn't blown out yet or caused a blackout like last time. It required constant energy consumption to maintain it at the moment. Fearing it would refuse to start up again if he ceased doing so, he hadn't let up. Stan was aware on how dangerous that could be. Over the years, he had taught himself through the journals and books in his brother's old room, the workings of the portal. Sure, he didn't completely understand the process, but he understood the general concept of it, which appeared to be enough to work the thing. The portal had began to produce that distinct humming noise a few days ago though, and he needed to read up on how to repair that. The photocopies would explain to him exac- When he slid open the small cabinet to find them, they were gone. And all three of the journals. Stan stared blankly at the spot for a period of time.

"SHIT!"

_~!-?-!~_

Dipper hadn't taken the painkillers prescribed to him. He lay awake in his bed, covers bunched up around his feet, attempting to reduce the heat he felt in the attic. His shirt stuck to his back, drenched from the ever present sweat clinging to his skin. There would be no sleeping tonight, as he would be fighting off the pain that ached him and the thoughts barreling through his head. _Haha! Pain is hilarious! _Dipper frowned. His mind released echos on events of the past few days and it annoyed him to no end. He sat up and began pulling the damp shirt off. It had been pretty hot the last few days and with his room being closer to the sun, had made it stifling in there. Piedmont never became so overbearingly hot as it was now. _  
><em>

He rolled onto his side, attempting to become more comfy in an effort to fall asleep, but froze when he witnessed a bright bluish glow from the window. Why was the moon so bright? He removed himself from bed and peered out the window. The forest was glowing. He blinked a few time in confusion and the glow disappeared. What was that? Dipper stood there, before making the decision to investigate. His anxiety screamed that it was a bad idea, but Dipper shoved it into his "Worry Later Closet". He decided to put on a new t-shirt, this one being a forest green one, and slipped on his shoes without the socks.

He tiptoed to the living room, but relaxed when realizing Stan wasn't there. He must of been asleep. It was a bit early though, being as it was only 11 PM, while Stan usually went to his bedroom around midnight. Dipper headed out the backdoor and onto the porch, observing the forest. There were no mysterious lights as far as he could see. He wanted to investigate further, but doing so would break the only rule Stan had given the twins when they first came here; Don't go into the woods at night. He bit his lip, before deciding on breaking the rule. The forest was just as frightening as it was in the daytime, so what was the harm in doing so?

The underbrush crunched noisily beneath his feet, causing Dipper to cringe a few times. It appeared that the forest was quiet, compared to the chattering birds heard in the daytime. And he could barely see a thing. He was able to see the barest of a outline from the light of the quarter moon. In all hindsight, Dipper realized that going into the woods at night was not the best idea, especially since he had injured himself earlier today in the very same area and the wound was throbbing worse than before. It wasn't as bad as the pain he had from the forks being stabbed into him though. _Boy, these arms are durable! _The glow was up ahead, dimmed though compared to the light he witnessed earlier. What in the world is that?_  
><em>

After passing a few pine trees into a clearing, he finally was able to see what produced the glow blue light. Dipper frowned at what was before him. There was a circle of tiny white candles, topped with jade hued flames in the clearing. And, the center of the candles was Gideon Gleeful. He was on his knees, cradling the very same mystic amulet Mabel had destroyed and was whispering to it. There wasn't even a crack present on the amulet, much to Dipper's growing confusion. He stepped closer, on the border of candles, listening to what Gideon was speaking. "...destruere malum, Destruere malum, destruere malum, destruere malum, destruere malum..."

The 10-year old began to increase the phrase in volume, causing the flames to expand. Dipper took a step back, producing a 'crack' from the branch beneath his shoe. Gideon's head jerked up from the stone to stare at him. They stared into each others eyes, Dipper realizing his eyes were flickering back and forth between a jade hue and a dark blue. Gideon's face contorted in pain, and realized a hiss as he dropped the now steaming amulet. The flames exploded in a furious expansion, Dipper staggering back from the intensity of them. Then, as soon as it began, it was over. The flames and the glow of the amulet vanished all together.

_Chapter 5 End_


	7. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6 _

**Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me.  
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Dipper had stumbled backwards, onto his bottom, eyes adjusting to the eternal darkness of the forest. He had no idea what had just occurred, but his heart was hammering, and the "Worry Later" closet was creaking open in his mind. Dipper's eyes were fully adjusted by this point, moon providing a weak light for his eyes. The candles were still there. It wasn't his imagination then a-_oh god_. Gideon Gleeful was lying face down in the center of circle of them. Oh god, he was dead. Dipper trembled, beginning to pant from the rising anxiety. No, no, no, he couldn't have a attack, in the middle of the forest, next to the corpse of a child. Oh god, there was a _dead child_ next to him. A child! He whimpered, knowing that since he was so worked up, all by himself in the forest, it would only be a matter of time before the panic attack slammed full force into him. Oh god, a dead body, oh god, oh god, oh god, please help, oh god, a dead body, no, oh god, Grunkle Stan help, oh god, oh god Mabel, oh god Mabel please, please, please help, oh god, no, Mab-

Gideon Gleeful released a low moan, shifting a bit. The barreling thoughts abruptly came to halt, as did nearly his breathing, as he realized that Gideon was in fact, alive. Dipper almost laughed. He didn't even care if Gideon was a little creep and had attempted to kill him, he would never want to be around the dead body of the boy. He was just a child in the end! It didn't matter in the end if he was a little creep, he was just a child. Dipper, with this thought in mind, uncurled himself from his ball, that he hadn't even realized he was in. His whole frame was quivering all too much to stand, so he crawled across the terrain, elbow twinging in protest. He couldn't even register the pain though, adrenaline creating a blockade against the pain. Dipper pushed the candles out of the way and crawled right up to Gideon. He, doing the only thing one could think doing in a situation as the one he was in, poked his pudgy hand. Gideon released a choked cry and curled up onto his side, whimpering pitifully.

It was his fault, wasn't it? Whatever insane curse Gideon was performing, wouldn't have injured him if he hadn't shown up. God, it was completely his fault! His logical side was arguing with his anxiety though. It was Gideon's fault in the first place! If he wasn't out here messing with things he shouldn't be messing with as usual, then this wouldn't have happened. That little creep was at fault. The constant stream of whimpers though, made Dipper feel guilty. He isn't a little creep at the moment, he was simply a child in need. Dipper scooted closer, and released a gasp of pain at a particularly sharp twinge in his elbow. His arm nearly buckled from it. God, that hurt. _Haha! Pain is hilarious!_ He ignored that memory, focusing on Gideon. Ignoring the repeating memories, entirely cycling through his head. Dipper was aware that the boy was awake, but not all that sure if he was coherent. Dipper cleared his throat before speaking. "...a-are you ok?"

Gideon's face shone with sweat, twisted in agony. Foggy, pain filled, cobalt blue eyes focused on his own chocolate brown ones. "...'i-ipper... 'ines...?"

Dipper gulped. "Uh, yeah. Are you, uh o-ok?"

Tears leaked from his eyes as his left hand covered his right. "...'mm..."

Dipper frowned, gulping thickly at the reply. "C-Can I, uh see?"

Gideon whimpered, shaking his head. "...'urts..."

Dipper crouched lower. "Uh, m-maybe I can help."

The 10-year-old simply stared, while Dipper's frown deepened. He needed to improve the lighting to observe the injured hand. He twisted his body to the side to grasp the candle, intending to discover a way to light it. The brunet heard the crunching of pine needles though and twisted back around to see Gideon scampering away. Oh, no, not again. There was no way he was allowing this happen, again! He groaned aloud, dropping the candle. He sprinted after Gideon, who was obviously too weak to go any faster than Dipper was capable of. When he was right behind Gideon, Dipper tackled him to the ground, who in turn released a cry of agony. Dipper cringed. Maybe that wasn't the best idea he had had. He immediately removed himself from Gideon. He was curling onto himself, much like Dipper had been before. It must of been incredibly painful. "...C-Could I just see?"

Gideon scowled at him, with much less venom than usual, and more with a wild gaze in his eyes. Finally though, he sluggishly presented his hand. Dipper tenderly grasped his fingertips, fearful of causing the boy to release one of those choked cries once more. He only received a moan though, so Dipper was confident he wasn't doing too much damage at the moment. The only problem was that it was excessively dark, causing it to be difficult to determine how injured the hand was. The brunet knew it must of been somewhat damaged though, judging from the reaction and recalling how the amulet had steamed. Speaking of the amulet, Dipper wondered where it went, but again, it was too dark to determine where anything was. Dipper tenderly set Gideon's hand down, ignoring the miserable intake of breath from the boy. He needed light to see properly. "Um, do you have any more matches?"

Gideon possessed a weary appearance now. Dipper swallowed thickly, gazing away. With his uninjured hand, Gideon sloppily tugged a few matches out of one of his front pockets, letting them tumble out across the grass underneath himself. Dipper plucked a match up. When his dad had taken him and Mabel camping up north in California once, he had taught them how to make fires with matches and with sticks. Dipper was glad he paid attention to the second, unlike Mabel who was too excited about roasting marshmallows to do so. It turned out that this technique would come in handy. He sat, cross legged on the ground, removing one of his shoes. On the underside of it, he struck a match across, watching as it flashed to life, bringing visibility to the area. With his other hand, Dipper gently took Gideon's hand by his fingers, studying the damage. The flesh of his palm was seared, revealing the second layer of skin, from the heat of the amulet. Slick flesh twinged wi-He gagged, looking away. This was pretty bad. Dipper had no idea how Gideon wasn't screaming for mercy. Dipper nearly had a heart attack when he suddenly heard Gideon's voice. "...'t bad...?"

Dipper attempted to keep the shaking in his voice to a minimum. "Uh, n-no..."

"...oh...'t is..."

Dipper would have been startled for a boy to pick up on his lies, if it wasn't Gideon Gleeful the one to do so. He was more concerned of the appearance of the burn. "I... think y-you need a...doctor. Its, uh b-black..."

"...'leeding...?"

Dipper wasn't capable of observing it once more, fearing he would lose the contents of his stomach. He didn't recall any blood though. "N-No, I don't...think so?"

"...'ot bad 'hen...'eave me 'lone now..."

"Uhhhh, I'm p-pretty sure that's bad still...I'm not gonna leave, even if you are annoying...You need a d-doctor."

Dipper immediately felt guilty about calling him annoying though, when he witnessed Gideon burying his face in the pine needles and dirt, whimpering once more. "N-No 'octors..."

This wasn't normal behavior for a child, Dipper realized at this moment. If he was in the same position he would probably be crying for his mom, hoping for the pain for end. Gideon was acting though like this happened on a regular basis and that it wasn't all that big of a deal. That wasn't how anyone this young should act, and now, more than ever, Dipper knew there was something wrong with this boy. Dipper needed to bring Gideon to a doctor immediately. He grabbed at Gideon's shoulder and tugged him up to a cross legged position. "W-We need to go to the hospital."

The freckled faced boy was cradling his hand to his chest, shaking his head. "N-No 'octors."

"Y-You're hurt though!"

Gideon just shook his head, repeating his statement over and over again. Dipper needed a compromise. They couldn't go to the hospital, but he needed medical attention. He bit his lip in thought, unintentionally mirroring his twin sister. The Shack. Stan kept a first aid kit in the downstairs bathroom, for when the twins injured themselves while playing in the forest. "Ok, ok. No doctors. But, we need to...we need to wrap this, ok? It could get i-infected and that...that would be, um...bad. Come to the M-Mystery Shack with m-me."

Gideon stared intently at the match and it occurred to Dipper that the flames weren't jade as they were before. Nor were Gideon's eyes. He swallowed thickly at the realization, but focused his attention back onto the task at hand. He was confident that Gideon, appearing as weak as he was, would pose no threat if he entered the Shack at the moment. "Do y-you need help getting up?"

Gideon continued to stare intently at it, unresponsive. The boy was becoming creepier as time went on. He stared at the flame, as if it was the most fascinating thing on the planet of earth, instead of it being a simple candle. Dipper didn't like it one bit. He wet his thumb and forefinger and pinched the flame out, engulfing them in darkness. "...Do you need help getting up?"

"...n-no..."

Dipper listened as he heard Gideon unsteadily stand, before scrambling to rise as well. They began their trek back to the Shack, Dipper listening for Gideon's panting, to be sure he was still following him. God, this was a weird situation to be in. For some reason though, it didn't bug him as much as usual. It might have to do with those memories that kept taunting him though. _The point is I like you. _He shivered. When the pair had arrived, Dipper swung back around, observing Gideon standing in the doorway, moonlight streaming in behind him. The brunet whispered to his companion. "We have to be quiet, or Grunkle Stan will wake up and find us."

Gideon appeared to be dazed and confused by this point. "...'Tanford...'Ines...?"

"Yeah." Dipper told him, reaching out to grasp at his shoulder, to guide him to the bathroom. Gideon complied. Dipper inaudibly clinked the door shut, as they entered the room, light bulb above them flashing on. The boy appeared worse in light. His hair was even more so messier than before, pine needles stuck in his bob. His clothes were crumpled, smeared with dirt, and dark shadows were bruising underneath his eyes. Dipper was beginning to suspect there was a underlining issue at hand, that wasn't related to the burn occupying his hand. That would be none of his business though. His business was bandaging the hand and nothing more. He guided Gideon to the toilet, setting him down onto the lid. Dipper moved on to opening the cabinet below the sink, pushing rolls of toilet paper out of the way, to search for the first aid kit. He finally located it and opened the ancient box, searching for some type of burn cream and bandages. He nearly had a heart attack when Gideon spoke once more. "...'here my 'mulet?"

Dipper stood, triangle jar of cream in hand. "Uh, I'm not sure...didn't, uh Mabel destroy that though?"

Gideon didn't reply, eyes glazing over once more with apparent pain. He was about to repeat the question, when the door opened, revealing a sleepy Mabel rubbing her left eye. "...Dipper what are yo..." She stared at Gideon, who still appeared to be in a haze. Her mouth opened, scream of surprise escaping beginning to erupt from her lips. "GIDE-"

Dipper was across the room within seconds, hand slapping over her mouth, efficiently ending her cry. When he spoke, his voice came out a whispered hiss. "I can explain, but you need to be quite though!"

Her chocolate brown eyes flickered over to Gideon, before she licked his hand, causing Dipper to violently jerk away. He grimaced as he wiped his spit glazed hand onto his shorts and scowled at his sister. "What the heck, Mabel?!"

She glowered back at her twin brother, using the same whispery tone as him, but giving off a blatant undertone of betrayal. "I should be asking you that, bro-bro! Why is Gideon here?!"

Dipper glanced back at Gideon, who was sluggishly blinking as he stared at a framed photograph of the Mystery Shack's grand opening back on the Forth of July in 1982. Shock. The boy must have been going into shock from the severity of the burn. He frowned, returning to the first aid kit for painkillers. Mabel was beginning to realize there was something seriously amiss. She further observed the 10-year-old, taking in the glassy eyed stare and the sheen of sweat present on his face. Mabel's glower visibly lessened at his appearance. There didn't appear to be any medication to lessen Gideon's pain, causing Dipper to feel the well of anxiety swell. When he spoke, there was a blatant tone of concern present. "H-His hand is hurt..."

_~!20-8-5-18-5/9-19/1-14-15-20-8-5-18/3-9-16-8-5-18!~_

"-And then Jacob rips off his shirt and turns into this hugggggeeeeee werewo-" She spread out her arms in an attempt to show portion of her description. After explaining the concept of digital video disks (which Stanley was able to effortlessly grasp the idea of), Mabel had begun to move into the topic of her favorite movies and what they are about. Right now she was in the middle of explaining the plot of a cringe worthy movie known as "Twilight", which turned out to have three sequels to it. Stanley had been quite patient, but was beginning to become weary of this horrifying love triangle. It must of been a miracle that his brother hadn't locked her in a closet, just like that time little Daniel Corduroy wandered into the Mystery Shack to scream death threats at Stan, and swing about his mini axe. Stanley had nearly had a heart attack when this event had occurred, but Stan simply grasped the axe mid-swing and shoved the 6-year-old into the closet, leaving him locked in until he stopped screaming at Stan. The boy had it in his head that Stanford Pines was his enemy for whatever reason, and always attempted to murder his brother at the the time. He had given his brother quite the lecture afterwards though, but Stan had just waved him off. Stan must have the patience of a saint now, if he could put up with this terrible story. He decided cut off her endearing, yet tiresome ramblings by writing to her.

"This sounds like a great story sweetie, but I need you to do me a favor."

She paused, then dropped her hands to her lap, appearing upset. "And I was getting to the best part! What is it?"

"Where is Stan?"

"Ummm, I'm not sure."

Stanley had remembered he caught his brother pouring over one of the journals, mumbling about the workings of the portal. He had feared for quite awhile now, that his twin brother would attempt to do something quite foolish, and needed to get the message through not to do so. Stan apparently hadn't used a UV light or he would of revealed the few warnings Stanley left behind not to do so. "Mabel, its really important that you tell him something from me."

Mabel gulped painfully. "Um, I don't know...Me and Grunkle Stan sorta got in a fight..."

Was that why she appeared upset? "About what?"

Mabel shrugged. She was clamming up, just like someone else he knew when they were upset. "Do you know what? I'll tell you a interesting story if you tell me the story of the fight."

Mabel liked stories, especially from old people. She didn't wanna tell her grandfather this story though. But, an interesting story sounded fun. She bit her lip thoughtfully. "...ok, deal. It better be interesting though!"

"It will, it will. This was over 60 years ago though, keep in mind. We were just freshmen back in New Jersey at the time."

Mabel's eyes widened. Grunkle Stan and Grandpa Stanley were from New Jersey?! That was next to New York! This was already proving to be interesting. He continued on. "Now, every time Stan tells this story, he usually makes himself out to be the savior, but it was actually Carla that was his savior. Now, you must be wondering who Carla is right? Well, I'll get to that soon. When we were kids, our pops made us do boxing, to build not only strength, but character. I honestly was never much for it, but Stan mastered it pretty well once he got the hang of it. Unfortunately, he wasn't all that balanced. Once, when we were in line to see a new horror film, we did love those, his wallet was stolen. He went to 'left punch' the thief, but ended up tripping over his untied shoelaces. The man would of gotten away, if it wasn't for Carla McCorkle. When she witnessed this event, she literally swung around in her spot in line, and socked him straight in the throat. She had hit him so hard, that he had fallen flat onto his back, and she was able to successfully retrieve Stan's wallet."

"Wow..." Mabel breathed. Her Grunkle Stan must of got her! "Did he ask her out?"

Stanley burst out in silent laughter. "Oh heavens, no! She gave him his wallet without a word and went to buy her ticket, before Stan could thank her. My brother immediately fell for her though. We ended up following her to the same movie and we sat directly behind her, just so he watch her during it. He ended up getting her attention by asking her name. She nearly punched him in the face, not expecting him to be suddenly behind her. Carla and Stan introduced themselves and he asked about where she learned how to punch like that. Turns out she was the daughter of our boxing coach and she asked him out to a date by the end of the movie. Thank god she did, or my brother would of continued to dress the way he did. Those high waist trousers were never flattering on either of us."

Mabel giggled, imagining Stan wearing high waist elderly man pants and a woman saving his butt. He sounded like he was such a dork! "How come I never heard about her?! She sounds awesome!"

A brief pained look passed his face, before smiling gently. "Oh, they haven't been together for a great many of years."

"Why? She and Grunkle Stan sounded perfect for each other! She could of been my Graunt Carla!"

Stanley appeared weary suddenly. "...Mabel, isn't it your turn to tell about the fight?"

"...but...but...yes..." She made a promise and she always kept her promises, no matter how difficult it was to do so. Mabel gulped thickly, pondering on how to begin. When she finally did, the dam of guilt released its contents. "He called Dipper...a word and I got mad, so I told Dipper what happened, but the girl he likes was there and I accidentally revealed a secret, and I'm mad at Grunkle Stan for saying _that_ word cause it's not true, but he didn't say sorry so Dipper ran away and he followed him and I now feel bad cause I called Grunkle Stan a bad name but he doesn't know I did, but I'm also still mad at him, and I feel reallllllly bad that I REVEALED DIPPER'S SECRET!"

Mabel was panting by the end of it. Stanley blinked in surprise at her outburst."That was a bit of a mouthful. Do you feel better now?"

She blushed in humiliation at her eruption and nodded. "Good. Now what did Stan say about Dipper?"

Mabel fidgeted again. "...Re...retar...that word."

"Retarded?"

Mabel cringed. He frowned. "Does this have to do with Dipper's secret?"

She nodded hesitantly. "And what does it have to do with his secret?"

She bit her lip. "Ok...so is it necessary for me to know his secret for me to understand?"

She was wary of him still. She had barely know him for two days. Mabel had already grown attached to her grandfather, yet was unsure at the moment how much trust she should put into the man. She couldn't reveal that secret just yet, especially since she had no permission from her twin brother to do so. She shook her head. He seemed to ponder a reply for a moment. "...that term was used during our childhood. You know, if words are introduced to us at a young age, it tends to be in our vocab permanently, and if we wish to change it, then it becomes difficult to do so. What I'm trying to say is that he probably didn't mean to say it, it was just a force of habit. And I'm pretty certain he regrets it."

"Oh..." Mabel felt conflicted now. She remembered all the times when her usually affectionate dad would rant on about how much of a felon and bad influence his uncle was the year he lived with the man, due to their grandmother passing away when he merely 17, leaving to be taken into the care of Stan until he was an adult. The Pines family had never been very large, with only Stanley Pines Jr. having a son. What Mabel wasn't aware of was that Stanley Pines Sr. and his wife, Dorothy Oak had been only children, whose parents had both perished from a influenza outbreak, causing both of their families to nearly cease to exist. They had had a pair of twins though, hoping their families could rebuild. Unfortunately, Stanley and Stan had lost their father during their teens and their mother in later years. Stanley Jr. would be the only one to continue the Pines line, when he met his wife and having one kid, before vanishing off the face of the earth.

The rest, Mabel did know. When Alex Pines met his wife at the University of California, for the first time in his life he would have a large family, due to Ariel Palms having many people in her family, making reunions insane. And then they had a pair of twins. Her father had always told them his only living relative was a felon and a disgrace to society, so she had naturally assumed it to be true. When her mother told her that she and her brother would go and visit their great-uncle that summer, Mabel had immediately protested. Ariel reminded Mabel of her brother's condition though and had agreed that going to well-known relatives would be difficult, so they set out to Oregon for an unknown one. Though, the whole first week of being at Gravity Falls, Mabel had harbored a suspicion that Stanford Pines was a terrible man, though she didn't act any differently. Her opinion only changed when she realized that her great-uncle was actually pretty fun to be around, and secretly had a soft side. That was when the two truly began to bond. Mabel always kept that suspicion in the back of her head though, because after all, why would her dad lie? She was simply waiting for Stan to screw up, proving her dad right, and had thought that moment had been yesterday. But, her dad had been proven wrong once more.

"...Does my dad hate Grunkle Stan?"

Stanley blinked in surprise. He wasn't sure where that had came from. When he had been trapped here, his son had been a one-year-old, so he hadn't known much about Alex. But, he remembered awhile back when his son was a teen, he had stayed at the Shack for awhile. He recognized the features of the teenager as being a Pines, such as the unruly hair and square glasses, and made the connection that it was Alex. Stanley hadn't know the details though of precisely why he lived there during that certain period, but always wondered why Alex would constantly go about the house with a scowl on his face. He had accounted it to him simply being a emotional teen that simply didn't communicate well with an middle-aged man such as Stan. Mabel asking that though, made him wonder. "I don't know."

Mabel nodded. "...I'm going to go talk to Grunkle Stan..."

"Mabel?"

"Yes?"

"Could you tell Stan to stop?"

"Stop?"

"Just tell him I said that. He'll understand."

"Ok, I'll...I'll try to convince him you said that, Grandpa Stanley."

Stanley smiled at the name. "I hope you two make up. I know how stubborn he is, but I'm sure he won't be able to resist your pretty smile."

Mabel's pretty smile appeared at that. "Thanks!"

_~!-?-!~_

It was late when she returned to her room though, so she made the decision to confront Stan tomorrow. She glanced over to the bed opposite of her's. Dipper wasn't there, even though it was around 11 PM. The Shack was silent, dark as the forest outside, but her brother was missing. Mabel bit her lip, briefly wondering if she should search for him, but dismissed the thought, believing it would be best to leave him be for the moment. Her brother usually wandered about their house back in Piedmont or the Shack if he wasn't in the mood to sleep or be around her at night, which actually happened quite frequently before they had arrived at Gravity Falls. It hadn't always been that way though. Before _that_ incident, Dipper had confined with her about everything. After though, he became a bit closed-off, never quite possessing the same trust he had once had in her. That was all Mabel's fault though and she knew it. So, she would her respect her brother's wishes to be alone, at least for the moment.

She snuggled up into her pillow, burying her face into to it, preparing to let sleep overcome her. Sleep eluded Mabel though. God, it was hot in here. The stupid swamp cooler must of been malfunctioning, again. No wonder Dipper decided to leave the room, she was drenched in sweat! Mabel kicked off her covers, hoping to reduce the smothering feeling. It didn't, much to her dismay. She had no idea how she would be able to sleep no-Mabel did fall asleep though, half way through her thought. Mabel was quite possibly the only one that could sleep in any position, at any time. Her slumber would not last though, as she would be jolted awoken when she heard the creak of the back screen door downstairs. Mabel disoriently read the time on the clock of her nightstand, revealing it to be 1:01 AM. She would of dismissed the noise for Grunkle Stan, if it wasn't for the the dulled speakings of her brother. Dipper deluded himself into believing he was capable of being quiet, but unfortunately was not. The mutterings under his breath were not so much mutterings, as they were harsh hissings. It sounded as if he was speaking to another though, much to her puzzlement. Time to investigate.

Mabel stumbled down the staircase, and into the darkened hallway, rubbing her eyes. Her bleary gaze observed the soft light spilling from the crack of the bathroom door. Dipper never used that bathroom. What was he doing? As she approached, she was able to finally make out what was being spoken. "-idn't, uh Mabel destroy that though?"

The brunette pressed the door inwards, stepping in as she rubbed her left eye. "...Dipper what are yo..." She froze in mid-rub, taking in the scene before her. Dipper was knelt down, triangle jar of cream in his hands. And sitting on the toilet before him was Gideon Gleeful? _GIDEON GLEEFUL?_ Her mouth opened, scream of surprise escaping beginning to erupt from her lips. "GIDE-"

Much to her surprise, Dipper was across the room within seconds, hand slapping over her mouth, efficiently ending her cry. When he spoke, his voice came out a whispered hiss, near her ear. "I can explain, but you need to be quiet though!"

Dipper _did_ have quite a lot of explaining to do. She needed to get his hand off though so she could investigate further. She licked his hand, causing Dipper to violently jerk away. He made a disturbed face. Dipper wiped his spit coated hand onto his shorts and glared at his sister. "What the heck, Mabel?!"

She glowered back at her twin brother, using the same whispery tone as him, but giving off a undertone of betrayal. "I should be asking you that, bro-bro! Why is Gideon here?!"

Dipper glanced back at Gideon, who was sluggishly blinking as he stared at a framed photograph of the Mystery Shack's grand opening back on the Forth of July in 1982. He frowned, returning to a first aid kit on the sink's counter, rummaging through for an unknown object. Mabel was being to realize there was something seriously amiss. She further observed the 10-year-old, taking in the glassy eyed stare and the sheen of sweat present on his face. Mabel's glower visibly lessened at his appearance. Mabel wasn't completely aware of what was occurring in that moment, but knew that the child needed assistance in someway. He may of been a little creep, but Mabel couldn't help but remember the boy she had thought of as her friend, for however brief it was of a time. Dipper appeared disappointed for a moment, then became distinctly distressed. When he spoke, there was a blatant tone of concern present. "H-His hand is hurt..."

"Hurt? What do you mean hurt?" Concern oozed from her tone.

"It's, um b-burned."

Mabel stepped forward, intending to see the damage, but was blocked by her twin brother. "M-Mabel, it's-you-please, y-you don't wa-"

"Dipper, please, I wanna help."

She appeared determined, that much was indisputable. Finally, Dipper sighed and stepped aside. Mabel attentively approached Gideon, unaware of how he would react to her appearance. She diffidently didn't want the boy to go all gaga over her arrival and pester her for a date once more. Mabel doubted this would occur though, as he was in a considerable amount of pain. He didn't acknowledge her presence, so she squatted down, observing the hand limply lying in his lap. Mabel gasped aloud, placing a hand over her mouth in astonishment. "Oh my god, Dipper, this is bad!"

Dipper fidgeted in the medicine cabinet, searching for any medication to relieve Gideon's pain. He was coming up empty though. There wasn't medication for anything, which perplexed him. Grunkle Stan was 81; he had to have oral medicine for something lying around the house by this point in his life. He couldn't focus on the mystery of that though, as he had more bothersome matters on his hands to attend to. "I-I know. And, he won't go to a d-doctor."

"Why?!"

"I-I don't know! He won't tell me!"

Mabel gripped the boy's uninjured hand, rubbing circles on the back of it with her thumb. "Gideon? Gideon, it's me, Mabel. Gideon? Are you ok?"

His focus on the photograph ceased and he sluggishly stared at her. "...'Abel...?"

"Yeah. Are you ok?"

Gideon's head dropped in reply. She frowned and felt his forehead, gasping. "Dipper, he feels really hot."

Dipper paled. "His b-burn is probably i-infected!"

"...Dipper, we need to wake up Grunkle Stan."

"A-Are you crazy, Mabel?" He spluttered. "I-If he sees Gideon Gleeful in his house, he's going to-going to-just lose it!"

Mabel frowned. "Gideon has a bad burn and is running a fever. We need Stan to drive us to the hospital! And he isn't gonna lose it, he's gonna help him because he's only 10!"

Dipper bit his lip in thought. That was true. "O...Ok."

"Go wake him up then!"

"M-Me?" Dipper squeaked.

"Dipper, it's ok. He won't get mad at you."

Dipper fretfully wrung his wrists. "But-"

"No, listen bro-bro. You trust Grunkle Stan, right?"

"Um, I wouldn't let him handle my money, so not reall-"

"No, I mean like to help you. I wouldn't let him handle my money either."

"Of course." Dipper told her with no hesitation.

"Then, he'll help us."

Dipper hesitantly nodded. "O-Ok...I'm going to d-do it."

When he arrived to his Grunkle Stan's door, he creaked it open peeking inside. The distant tunes of old time jazz echoed pleasantly to his ears. Dipper frowned. Stan typically listened to classic rock, like Creedence Clearwater Revival and The Eagles. The twins were aware that he owned records from the 20s and 30s, since they belonged to his parents, but never listened to them. Dipper clicked the light on, revealing the room to be empty, causing Dipper to furrow his brows in confusion. It was 1 AM, the vinyl record player was on, and no one was occupying the room at the moment. He approached the record player, observing the spin of it, as it played an eerie strain that produced goosebumps across Dipper's skin. He reached out, removing the arm from the record, ending the music. He twisted the dial to "OFF" and observed its slowing down. The worn out record was labeled, "Columbia" in large print, underneath was copyright details and speeds of the disk itself. Beneath that read, "UPTOWN BLUES (Lunceford) JIMMIE LUNCEFORD & HIS ORCH.". Diffidently not classic rock. Dipper picked up the sleeve for it and slipped the record inside, before placing it back into the box of other vinyl record set beside the player.

Dipper didn't have any idea where his Grunkle Stan could be at the time and he knew this was an urgent situation. He began to pace the length of the room, wringing his wrists in his anxiety. What were they going to do? Gideon's fever was only going to rise and they needed a doctor now. The lights in the room flickered at this moment and he frowned. Stan needed to update the electricity in this place; it was always doing that. And the swamp cooler needed to be replaced and the garbage disposal was still broken. His great-uncle just needed a whole renovation to this building. Dipper's anxiety was calming and being replaced with annoyance at these thoughts. Why did Stan have to live in the past? Old things needed to be replaced if they no longer worked!

The lights flickered once more and then abruptly, he was engulfed in darkness. Dipper gasped aloud the moment it happened, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. This just hadn't been his week has it? There was a glow from behind. Dipper tensed, breaking out in the cold sweat as the light began to grow brighter as it approached. The distant cords of "Uptown Blues" played once more and from the approaching glow, he noticed the record was back on the player once more. Oh, god. This was not a good situation he was in. The glow ceased movement and he knew in that moment. He knew whatever produced that light was directly behind him. They say courage is readiness to face fear and to take action despite it. In that moment, Dipper did just that. He turned around.

_Chapter 6_

**Had to cut it off right there, or this chapter would of gone on for ages. I am so, so, sooooo sorry though that I didn't update earlier! I've been busy with school work lately and I just got a bit overwhelmed. I had to write during my spare time just to get this chapter out. I made this chapter extra long though to make up for it, so please do enjoy this. Anddddd, did any of you see the new Gravity Falls episode? The ending made me scream! March 9th is soooo far away!  
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	8. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

**Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me.**

Dipper's face was inches from it when his breathing ceased. The uncanny, illuminating hue burned his retinas from the intensity, yet he could not look away. In the back of his mind, a itch began to take form. It seemed to draw him to it, seemingly full of promises of power and protection. He knew deep down though, that these were lies. He could sense the terrible danger it possessed. Dipper hadn't felt any more tense in his life. He barely registered the change in the background music, too entranced in the potential and his fear. It wasn't until he heard the mummer of a familiar name, that he tuned in to the music, but still dared not move a muscle. The record player was no longer playing the echoic "Uptown Blues". It was now soothingly whispering, static cracking louder than the words. He could hear them though, there was no doubt. Just like when he would hear those voices when he was young, pressuring him. Dipper knew that these whispering came from it. They came from Gideon Gleeful's amulet. "_Gideon_..._where_..._run_..._of_..._to_?"

Dipper immediately couldn't take the intensity of the voice. His trembling hands covered his ears in a quick motion, elbow releasing a sharp pain that was ignored. His heart was thumping in anticipation of the amulet's reaction. No voices, no voices. He didn't hear anything. No. He didn't. Was the amulet as disturbing as it was before? He never recalled feeling such a fear from the jewel itself, but he may of been too distracted by Gideon to notice in the first place. Now that he was alone with it though, he couldn't do anything expect for cower before it. Mabel. He nearly gasped at the thought that his twin sister had used its power that night about a month ago. Had she felt this? It was suddenly centimeters from his face. He whimpered as his eyes watered. It was watching him, Dipper simply knew.

The voice increased in volume and covering his ears did nothing to block it out. "_Giddy_..._the_ _Pines_..._can't_..._protect_..." The motherly voice cooed. The voice took on a dark note though, voice full of lust and longing. "..._so_..._wrong_..._Gideon_..._I'll_... _find_..._You're MINE_."

Dipper finally squeezed his eyes shut, knees giving out below him. The glow was piercing his lids though. No, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO, NO, _NOOOOO_. _NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_. He couldn't take it anymore. He had been trapped in this room for years and years. So many years. Dipper knew it would never end though, he would forever be tormented by the amulet. By the-but the glow vanished and he could breath again. The brunet tenderly opened his eyes, heart still thumping in anticipation. Nothing was there much to his relief. He stood on shaky legs and observed the record player. It no longer was on, but the vinyl was still there. It had happened. He didn't imagine it. Dipper shuddered, mind not registering that the shape of the vinyl was now a triangle, instead of a typical circle. This situation seemed to becoming worse and worse. He needed Grunkle Stan. But, the need to find his great-uncle was replaced with fear as he heard the vocalization of a girl screaming in horror. Without a second thought, he bolted out of the room. "Mabel!"

The door to the bathroom was closed, but he knew it wouldn't matter to the amulet. He swung open the door and froze at the sight. Gideon was still on the toilet seat, but his eyes were filled with fright as he stared, tight lipped, at the amulet. Dipper paid him no heed though, focusing on his sister curled up in the corner of the bathroom, screaming at the amulet floating inches from her. Her screams seemed to be off in the distance though, feminine whispers of desire overtaking all else. "..._pretty_..._might_..._be_..._better_..._than_..._Giddy_..._decisions_..._decisions_..._so_..._pretty_..."

Dipper's unease of the amulet was no longer present as he surged forward to protect his twin. "Mabel!"

There was a pulse in the air, that thrust him backwards though and an ungodly shriek filled the air. "_MINE_..._GO AWAY_...!"

Dipper staggered back from the very force of it. Mabel screeched louder and began to push herself against the wall, attempting to distance herself. "Don't touch me! Stop touching me there!"

He was completely at a lost for a moment. Touch her where? It was a jewel and it wasn't even making contact with her. Her shrieks continued though and Dipper could do nothing to make them cease. His body was paralyzed and a strange lull of exhaustion was overtaking him. Dipper's eyes sluggishly shut for a moment, before jerking back open at the next screech. "STOP TOUCHING MY FACE!"

It was at that moment, that there was a clap of thunder and a bright golden illumination permeated the room. Dipper could do nothing to shield his eyes from the potency of light. When the luminance cleared, floating in between the amulet and Mabel, was Bill Cipher the dream demon. Dipper quivered at the very sight before him. The situation was becoming more and more bleak as time went on. To Dipper's bewilderment though, the dream demon didn't appear to be full of the typical mischief and trickery that Dipper had grown accustomed to. In fact, he seemed pissed off. His color was taking on the beginnings of a crimson shade and his tone was that deepened one he took on, when he would state something distressing. "_WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THE PINES_?_"_

The panic in Dipper ebbed away and he simply gaped in shock. The amulet replied in giggle though. The tone was full of earnest, unperturbed by the dream demon's own fury. "..._oh, Bill_..._been_..._long_..._time_..._Pines_..._not_..._your's_..._MINE_..."

Bill shade of crimson began to deepen and Dipper whimpered aloud. The demon's single eye shifted over to the preteen and the shade of crimson receded. He appeared to study the individuals in the room, eye narrowing. "_Pine Tree, you and Shooting Star shouldn't be involved with this_."

Dipper couldn't even respond. His mind kept flashing back to the last time they had met. The amulet sounded as pissed as the dream demon now and the amulet was suddenly mere centimeters from Mabel's face. "_MINE_!"

Dipper's heart stopped. Oh god, it was going to kill Mabel and there was not a single thing he could do. It didn't though. Bill's mouth had expanded to ridiculous portions, being as wide as the mirror set in the bathroom. Mouth? Since when did the triangular demon have a mouth? He had barely a moment to ponder this, as Bill released a massive blast of air from his mouth. Mabel, Gideon, and Dipper were swept away from the force of it. It seemed to carry them as if they were leaves in the breeze, a golden luminance engulfing them. The breeze seemed to lead the trio to the staircase down the hall. Further shocking Dipper, was when a secret door opened on the side of the staircase, much like when the Shack's secret room was unveiled, revealing a small gap below, full of several boxes. The three of them were flung inside and the door swung shut, entrapping them in darkness. It was quite for a minute or two before Dipper reached out, touching a body. "M-Mabel...?"

Then, the sobbing began. His twin sister cried in the darkness and suddenly Dipper couldn't help it; he cried as well. The last few hours had been completely overwhelming. The two of them sat in the darkness, clinging to each other as they released their fear. At some point though the weeping ceased and exhaustion befell them. Dipper wasn't all that sure of exactly how long he and Mabel had slept, but he was soon woken by the sound of another individual weeping. It was at that time, he recalled Gideon was here as well and was likely as upset as they were. And, Dipper found himself wanting to be become more involved with the younger boy and comfort him. He wasn't sure if it was pity or some other emotion he felt towards Gideon at the moment, but he knew Mabel would feel the same if she was awake. The brunet untangled himself from his twin's arms and released a harsh gasp when his elbow shocked him from the intensity of pain. It had been doing that since earlier in the night and he was beginning to suspect he would have to go to the hospital for yet another injury. He had larger concerns at hand though.

He went to stand, but smacked his head on what appeared to be the ceiling. He hissed in pain and rubbed his forehead. Crawling it was. As he crawled, he elbow began to pulse painfully and he winced each time he moved his arm. So distracted by the pain he was, that Dipper collided straight into another body, that released a yelp of alarm. Whoops. "S-Sorry, its uh, m-me, Dipper."

"...'ines?"

"Yeah. Are...are you o-ok? You don't sound too g-good still..."

"...Dark...'here?"

"Uh, under the, uh staircase? I-I didn't even know there was a room here..."

"...'mulet?"

Dipper winced. He didn't even want to think about that. "Uh...I-I don't know?"

"...'eed...it..."

The brunet still wasn't sure why Gideon was so attached to _that_. "Well, we're uh, stuck, so I-I don't think that will happen anytime soon."

"...'eed it!" Gideon's tone became distressed and was now digging his nails into Dipper's arm, near his injured elbow.

Tears sprung once more to the 13-year-old's eyes and he began to pant from the pressure being placed on it. "G-Gideon! P-Please!"

"...'ine! 'eed it!"

"I-I-I-I d-don't hav-"

"You don't need it!" Mabel shouted at Gideon.

Dipper jolted as felt his twin thrust herself at the boy, causing Gideon to release his hand off of Dipper's arm. Mabel's voice became soothing whisper. "...You don't need her."

"...'eed! 'elp!"

"I'll protect you, ok? You don't need her."

Dipper was completely out of the loop about what was occurring. "M-Mabel? What's...what's goin-?"

Gideon interruptedthough, appearing desperate. "...'lease! 'eed her!"

"No, you don't need her; she just wants to use you. I won't let her have you though, ok?"

Gideon had broken into sobs by this point, repeating his distressed statements, yet Mabel repeated her reassurings each time. Dipper felt a pang in his heart, reminiscing on a times his sister did the same when he was in the midst of his panic attacks. He reached out and grasped Mabel's shoulder as Gideon's statements morphed into blubbers. "M-Mabel?"

"Shhhh, its ok...she's...she's been using him."

"Wait, 'she'?"

"You know, The lady that was...the one that was...trying t-to get m-me...too..."

"...Mabel, uh, I didn't see a-anyone."

He felt her shoulder tense and she giggled nervously. "...Right...of course no o-one was there..."

Dipper swallowed thickly. He wanted to believe Mabel, he truly did, but he was reminiscing on when they were younger and she would point at thin air, asking him if he saw that. He would tell her nothing was there though. When she would do it to their parents, they would chuckle and tell her what an imagination she had when it was something silly sounding. There were those times though, that she would point at the air and describe something especially disturbing to them. Their parents would freeze and gape at her, before telling her not say such things. And, Mabel did stop saying such things. He thought it may of had to do with that incident in the 3rd grade, where she wrote her "Biggest Fears" paper her class had written half-way through that year. Dipper didn't know the details, but after that, the twins were transferred to the other elementary school in the area. He never asked, but always held the suspicion that the contents of the paper had to do with it. He shouldn't believe her claim then. Yet, Dipper thought about those whispers he heard when he was young and the relief of being able to ignore them. Then, overtime, he was able to slowly block them out. Lately though, the whisperings wouldn't leave. The murmurs of a low timbre around the house, the womanly hissings from the amulet, and the echos of what Bill used to say rang out through his mind. And, with this thought in mind, Dipper released a secret even bigger than his Generalized Anxiety Disorder. "I-I heard a woman talking when the amulet was around."

_~!19-9-12-5-14-3-5/9-19/12-15-21-4!~_

Mabel woke to the cry of her brother. "G-Gideon! P-Please!"

She frowned. Where they fighting? She went to stand, but the top of her head brushed the ceiling, before getting to her full height. Mabel realized crawling was her only option and began to do so. "...Mine! 'eed it!"

The amulet. She remembered the night she had used the amulet. There had been a feeling of a calm that had overtaken her when she had used the power, yet she didn't even fluster when Gideon and Dipper had fallen off that cliff. For a split second though, she didn't want to stop using it, but the feeling had passed once she destroyed it. Or so she thought she had destroyed it at the time. The brunette understood perfectly what Gideon felt when he held it. She knew though that it was a danger and he had no need for it. "I-I-I-I d-don't hav-"

"You don't need it!" She cried as she threw herself at where she heard the boy's voice. Mabel slammed directly into him. A stack of boxes toppled over, producing a thud. Mabel wrapped her arms around his thick body and soothingly whispered. "You don't need it."

Gideon was attempting to push her away, but she held tighter in a hope to comfort him. "...'eed! 'elp!"

She needed to reassure him. "I'll protect you, ok? You don't need her."

There was confusion evident in her brother's voice when he spoke. "M-Mabel? What's...what's goin-?"

"...'lease! 'eed her!" Gideon was fighting against her, but she could feel his resolve weakening. He knew. He knew deep down that he didn't need her, Mabel realized. It was as if he was being forced to crave her protection.

"No, you don't need her; she just wants to use you. I won't let her have you though, ok?"

Gideon began to cease his struggle against her and had broken into defeated sobs, repeating the claims of much he needed the protection of the amulet. Mabel reassured him each time though, that he didn't need it and she would protect him instead. As Gideon began to blubber, she felt the weight of her brother's hand on her shoulder. "M-Mabel?"

Gideon was burying his face against her, blubbering increasing. She could feel the feverish skin through her nightgown. "Shhhh, its ok...she's...she's been using him."

"Wait, 'she'?"

"You know, The lady that was...the one that was...trying t-to get m-me...too..." Mabel trailed off. She could feel the desire when they had been in that bathroom, and witnessed the shadow of the hourglass shaped woman reaching out to her. The frigid hand had possessively stroked her cheek, sending shivers down the brunette's spine. Half of her clung to the comfort, while the other half rejected it wholeheartedly.

"...Mabel, uh, I didn't see a-anyone."

Mabel tensed. Oh, god, he hadn't seen her. There was a lady that Dipper hadn't seen, just as when they were young. He would never believe her. She released a nervous giggle."...Right...of course no o-one was there..."

For a moment, there was silence, only filled with the quieting sobs of Gideon. Then, Dipper revealed a shocking claim. "I heard a woman talking when the amulet was around."

Mabel was completely thrown. Dipper continued on, tone hesitant. "I...I hear...h-hear things s-some...sometimes..."

"...like...like when I see things?" Mabel questioned in return. The brunette had ceased her efforts to make society witness the sinister shadows, realizing she was the only one capable of being able to. Her parents had insisted she curb her "inappropriate imagination" as her Dad had dubbed it, at quite a young age. It was one of the few times she had genuinely witnessed him upset and felt disappointment well up in herself for causing her parents to worry. So, bye-bye shadows. Or at least speaking of them. It had never occurred to her though, that her brother may of been in a similar situation.

"I...uh, I...y-yes."

Gideon had halted his sobbing by this point and was strangely quiet. She took no notice though, as she was distracted by Dipper's surprising revelation. Mabel was honestly overwhelmed at the moment and wished someone could help unwhelm everything. Her Grandpa Stanley could. There were no mirrors anywhere and though Dipper seemed to slightly believe Mabel about the shadows now, he likely wouldn't believe their missing grandfather was trapped in an alternate universe, only seen through reflective surfaces. And if her own brother didn't believe this, then Grunkle Stan surely wouldn't either. Mabel winced. Why does she always make promises she can't keep? Grandpa Stanley was going to be disappointed in her now. She sighed aloud, as she thought on Dipper's reply. When had they become so distant that he had never bothered to tell her such a thing? "...why...why didn't you tell me?"

"I...I was a-afraid M-Mom and D-Dad wouldn't b-believe...j-just like...y-you..."

Mabel squeezed her eyes shut. No one ever believed her. About anything. Not even when she told her parents Dipper was beginning to act sort of distant over a year ago. Her Mom had simply smiled and told her not to worry, as he was acting perfectly normal. He hadn't though, he had seemed to retreat into himself and was speaking less to the family as a whole. Yet, Mabel never pushed him for an answer as to why he was acting that way. Mabel should of though. If she did, she would of never came home that day from art club to discover her brother's br-STOP. No, now was not the time to linger on that. She needed to focus on other topics. Such as why Gideon was so silent and not being wracked with sobs anymore. She frowned. "Gideon?"

There was no reply and she nudged him. His brother sounded concerned at the abrupt change in the topic. "M-Mabel? What's wrong?"

"Gideon? Are you ok?" She felt his forehead when there still no reply. His fever had dramatically risen, faster than a fever should have. Oh no. "Dipper! I think he passed out!"

"W-What?"

Mabel was beginning to become anxious. "His fever is really high!"

She felt Dipper brush up against her and pat around to locate the 10-year-old's forehead. She snatched his hand and guided it to Gideon's forehead. Dipper gasped in surprise. "Mabel, t-this is b-bad!"

"I know! Is the door locked?"

"...uh, I d-didn't check." Dipper pulled away and she heard some shuffling. "Oh no."

She didn't like the sound of that. "What?"

"The h-handle. It's missing!"

"W-What do you mean it's missing?"

"There's j-just a hole w-where the handle is s-supposed to b-be!"

They were stuck? THEY WERE STUCK. Mabel took a deep breath to steady her nerves though. She needed to keep calm for her brother. She could hear his harsh gasps and the anxiety riddled tone, suggesting he was on the verge of a panic attack. She needed to stay calm for his sake. They couldn't be simply stuck. Bill Cipher had somehow managed to open a once sealed door underneath the staircase, so there had to be a way to leave. Speaking of that, just why did the dream demon put three of them in here? Mabel didn't understand the motivation behind the action, when he had made it clear that he wasn't a good guy. She wanted to ask Dipper about his thoughts on the topic, but she had been hesitant to bring up the subject of Bill Cipher ever since the sock opera ordeal. Ever since that night, neither of them had mentioned it. Mabel was consumed with guilt for not noticing the change in his behavior, but each time she tried to prob the subject, Dipper would smoothly transitation the conversation to a different topic. She needed to force him to speak with her about it, or she feared this would end up as last time. Now wasn't the time though. Gideon passing out from his fever made her concerned about how high his temperature was. "Bro-bro, could you feel around for a mirror?"

"A m-mirror?! M-Mabel, w-we don't have t-time for t-this! W-We need t-t-t-t-t-"

"Dipper! Breath!"

Dipper ceased his stuttering and took a few breaths. Then some more. And then he wouldn't stop taking deep breaths. "Dipper!"

The breathing immediately halted. "...S-Sorry, I j-jus-"

"No, it's ok. You don't need to explain. Can you just look though?"

"O-Ok..."

Mabel heard more shuffling, then a muffled thud from a box falling. There was a clatter a moment after, that echoed throughout the confined space. For the next few minutes there was more scuffling and the clinking of various trinkets as Dipper scoured the closet for a type of mirror. Then, Dipper gasped in surprise. "I think...I think I found a compact case."

"That works." Mabel felt a round object pressed up against her thigh and she took it from the extended hand. She opened it, revealing one side to be smooth, as if it were reflective surface. She hoped Dipper trusted her enough to not believe she had completely lost her mind. Talking to mirror wasn't exactly a norm. The trio needed an escape though and she believed their Grandpa Stanley could assist them in a way. "S-Stanley? Are you awake?"

"Mabel?"

Mabel ignored Dipper. Grandpa Stanley may of been unable to hear her. The way it seemed to operate, is that he had to be near the reflective in his Shack to hear or even witness her. She bit her lip at the thought. "Stanley, can you hear me?"

"W-Who are you t-talking t-to?" Dipper appeared to be anxious about her behavior.

Mabel further chewed on her lip and shifted Gideon, so that his head rested on her left thigh. The compact case mirror appeared to light up, as if a lamp flickered on, and the face of her Grandpa Stanley appeared, seeming concerned. She knew he wouldn't be able to write more than two or three words, causing this to be a one sided discussion. "M-Me and my brother need help. We're sorta 're stuck in the closet."

Stanley pointed upwards on his end. The source of light appeared to be located above. "Dipper, there's a light above us!"

There was a smack and a moan of pain. She winced. "Are you ok, bro-bro?"

"...yeah..." The light flickered on and it was revealed that Dipper was crouched before her, hand grasping the metal chain, connected to a exposed light bulb. A pale pallor befell his face though, chocolate eyes deliriously swiveling about in every direction, as his mouth slowly gaped open. Mabel frowned, observing the room, seeing only the contents of the room spilled across the floor from when Dipper had emptied each box earlier, in search for a mirror. What was wrong then? She received no answer though, as Dipper fell backwards and scrambled back against the door, pressing himself up against it, much like she had earlier when the shadow had cornered her in the bathroom. Mabel opened to mouth to question his behavior, when he began to scream uncontrollably.

_End Chapter 7_

**Thank you all so much for the support you have all given me so far and for putting up with the long periods that are in between each chapter. I've really appreciated it so far! Now that I'm officially on Spring Break though, the time in between each chapter will shorten a lot. Hope you enjoy this one for the time being. :)**


	9. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

**Disclaimer: Alex Hirsch owns Gravity Falls, not me.**

Dipper blindly grasped the metal chain, dangling from the ceiling, and tugged on it. There was a distinct click and the closet was enveloped with light. Right away, Dipper knew this was a mistake. There were triangles. Everywhere. His mouth slowly gaped open and all the blood left his face. The mess bestrewn across the floor, dizzily swam before his face. His eyes shifted to his sister and Gideon. They were triangles. Triangles with familiar colors, distorted into one another, overwhelming his senses. THEY WERE TRIANGLES. Dipper staggered backwards, into the door, and fell over. He released a violent scream of horror as the triangles began to squirm. They twitched and trembled as if a mass of bees, sluggishly approaching him. What was that on the walls? WHAT WAS ON THE WALLS? RED. IT WAS SPLATTERED ACROSS THE WALLS. SO MUCH RED. BLOOD. OH GOD, IT WAS BLOOD. He was choking on his breath. Curling into a ball, he made an attempt to remove himself from the situation, but was inadequate to understand that he was in a locked room, unable to remove himself from it. Everything was moving, closer and closer, and he felt such a claustrophobia conquer his senses, that all he was able to do was scream. Dipper clenched fistfuls of his unruly hair and shook his head. NO. NO. NO. NO. He was producing harsh gasps between each cry. Go away. GO AWAY. But, it wouldn't go away and one of them was touching him. STOP TOUCHING. He violently slapped it away and he heard a crisp smack in reply. A voice cried out and he squeezed his eyes firmly shut, before blinking them open.

There were no triangles. No triangles? The bestrewn mess was there once more and Mabel was before him. Tears trickled down her round face, covering her cheek in surprise at his actions. He had hit her. Dipper nearly passed out. "O-Oh, god, M-Mabel, I-I-I-"

Mabel ignored his stuttering, and immediately plucked up the compact case, that had flew from her hands, with a frantic look. "Stanley? Grandpa Stanley?! Are you still there?!"

There was a jagged crack across the mirror from when it made contact with the floor. It appeared that, whoever Mabel had apparently been speaking to, was no longer there. Her sentence caught up to his mind. Grandpa? Wait, what? "W-Who-Wha-Grandp-pa?"

His sister released of sigh of defeat and dropped the compact case back onto the ground. She appeared to be forlorn for a moment, then, she began to dig through the mess around her. Dipper studied the objects in a daze. At least half was clothing, appearing to be a mix of classes, woman and men apparel from anywhere between the 1910s to the 1930s. The rest were antique breakables, he thankfully hadn't broken earlier, and kitchen supplies. Dipper had pulled the compact case from an what appeared to be a tattered makeup bag. He recalled his great-uncle was born sometime in the 30s, so he supposed this all belonged to Dipper's and Mabel's great-grandparents. He marveled at thought for a moment. They were surrounded by their family's history. What exactly did their family consent of though? "M-Mabel...Dad s-said his dad l-left when he was a b-baby..."

Mabel ceased her efforts and gazed over her shoulder with a solemn expression. "I don't know if you'll believe me."

Dipper bit his lip. He wanted to believe Mabel. "Try me."

"Well...uh, Grandpa Stanley, is uh, is almost in another universe?"

Dipper stared at her blankly. "...What?"

Mabel hung her head, returning to her efforts once more. "See, you don't believe me..."

Dipper was the type of person that needed evidence for a claim, especially such a farfetched one as this. He thought about Gravity Falls though and how much evidence the third journal gave. It honestly wasn't as much as he wished it could have, but he had believed in the writings so far. And so far, his trust had been put to good use. If he could believe the writings of the author, he had to be able to believe his sister. Dipper yelped when that identifiable timbre murmured into his ear. "...telephone..."

Mabel swung around at the yelp. "Dipper?"

"S-Sorry, just, uh..." Dipper stared into chocolate eyes. Trust. He needed to trust his sister. That wasn't as easy as it used to be though. Once upon a time, he would of not hesitated to leave his heart open to his twin, yet he lost the ability to do so over a year ago. Mabel changed though. As soon as he was admitted to Benioff Children's Hospital of Oakland in the psychiatric ward, she began to regularly appear for visits and devote all of her free time to him. Mabel was there more often than their own parents had shown, often immersed in work. Weekends was typical for them. His twin though, would take the the hour ride on the bus everyday after school, and visit him for an hour or two. Dipper had been astonished by her actions and though he would never admit it to anyone, he often cried when she left. And, slowly they had begun to rekindle their close bond. He still remembered what she did though and a part of him would always. He could forgive, yet never forget. Dipper had already revealed his deepest, darkest secret though. He could do it again. "I...I heard a v-voice..."

Mabel's eyes widened and she crawled over to him. "Was it...was it h-her?"

Dipper shook his head. "It was...a m-man..."

Mabel frowned, tilting her head. "What did he say?"

"...'telephone'..."

Mabel seemed to ponder this. "Why would he...?" She froze. "Have you heard this voice before?"

"Uh, y-yeah...he said 'sick' back when...when G-Grunkle Stan caught that bug t-two weeks ago..."

Mabel beamed. "Dipper! Do you know what this means?!"

"Uhhh?"

She began to open the rest of the boxes and investigate. "A-ha!" The brunette hauled out an antique rotary phone, reminding Dipper of the 1920s. "Plug-in, plug-in...Found you!"

She crawled to the other side of the closet and plugged it in. Then, she proceeded to call the Mystery Shack's home number. Dipper was beginning to suspect he would never understand what was occurring tonight. For a moment, he could hear ringing from outside the closet, from the living room's phone, but it was abruptly silenced. After a moment, Mabel shoved the phone into his hands. "If someone picks up, its probably Grandpa Stanley!"

"Wait, what?!"

"Mabel?" The identifiable timbre questioned.

Dipper frowned. No. That couldn't be the mutter he heard. "Uh, no, t-this is her brother."

"Oh, you must be Dipper! So, you can hear me. I thought you did that one day in the hall. I apologize for that by the way. Simply talking aloud to myself."

"W-What? Wait, w-who is t-this?"

"Oh, did she not fully explain? Well, this is awkward...urr, I suppose I'm your grandfather? It's a bit odd to be honest."

Dipper gaped. "G-Grandfather?...uh, l-look, my grandfather p-p-probably died a long t-time ago, so, uhhh..."

"Ah, I see. You need evidence. I'm like that as, too. Well, lets see what I could possibly tell you to make you believe...? Oh. Well, your great-uncle started boxing when he was eight. And, he started it since our father thought it would build character."

Dipper paled. Only Stan, Soos, and he would know that. And, the handy man would never willingly reveal such a fact to anyone. Dipper only knew, since he heard the memory of Stanford Pines divulge all of that to Soos. "S-so...but...I...S-Stanley Pines?"

"Yes."

"B-But, you soun-"

"Young? Yes, well, where I am, time doesn't seem to exist here."

"Where a-are you?"

"I'm stuck between two planes of existence. I am in the Mystery Shack, but in one that is stuck between two different worlds."

"A-Alternative universes?"

"Yes, it seems you grasp this concept better than your sister."

"Why can't Mabel hear you...but s-see you?"

"Yeah, how come Grandpa Stanley?!" Mabel shouted into Dipper's ear.

Dipper cringed and shoved her away. He heard chuckling from his grandfather. "I suppose that was her?"

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Yeah."

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I'm sorry I can't give you two a better answer."

"He doesn't know, Mabel." Mabel nodded dejectedly, then began to crawl over to Gideon, whose head was laid upon dark coat.

"You two said you were stuck?"

Dipper blinked. He had nearly forgotten everything that had happened. The discovery of their grandfather, that their Dad had claimed left the family when he was an infant, had distracted him from the confides of the closet. Now, he wished he hadn't remembered. His anxiety was returning full force. "Uh, y-yeah... We s-sorta need help...p-please..."

"Ok, where I am, the door can be opened from the outside. Not the inside. I learned that from personal experience back when I was in that world. My brother didn't find me until eight hours later when he returned from work."

Dipper swallowed thickly. "E-Eight hours?"

"It won't take that long, no need to panic, Dipper."

He nearly began to laugh at how ironic the statement was. "H-How are we going t-to get out?"

"Well, you need something resembling a screwdriver or a pencil."

"Uh, Mabel do you see anything like a, uh a stick?"

Mabel glanced up from Gideon. "Dipper, Gideon's burn is...really gross..."

Dipper turned around and watched Mabel cradling Gideon's hand with a appearance of consternation. He barely glanced at the oozing hand for a moment, before gagging a bit with his eyes shut. The deep timbre voiced his concern. "Dipper?"

"Uh, h-hold o-on..."

Dipper set the phone back onto the floor and began to peruse through other unopened boxes. He stumbled across a tattered work briefcase and fumbled to open it. Frayed paperwork was dispersed along the inside of it and a fountain pen. Oh, thank god. The trio needed to leave as soon as possible; Gideon was becoming worse. Dipper would of been pondering on how Gideon's wound had been infected so quickly, if his anxiety hadn't overcome him at that moment. He crawled back to the phone and plucked it up. "Ok, I found a pen."

"Ok, now go to the hole where the handle would be."

Dipper and the phone moved to the door. "Here."

"So, do you see the square metal hole where the handle should be?"

"Yeah."

"That's known as the spindle hole. The spindle is a stick that connects both of the door knobs. Turning that, causes a door to open. You following me?"

Dipper made a noise to affirm he did. "Put the pen into that hole. There should be a knob next to your pen. If you push the pen to the left, the knob on the side of the hole will move, opening the door."

The brunet pushed the pen to that direction and there was a barely audible click. Then, the door creaked open. Dipper gaped for a moment, before exclaiming in a hushed voice. "Woah!"

"Dipper! Can you help me carry Gideon out?" Mabel inquired from behind him.

Dipper had nearly forgotten. "Uh, s-sorry someone with us is really, uh, sick, so I need to go."

"I understand. Your friend looked pretty sickly from when I saw him in the background of the mirror. You should hurry."

"Ok, uh, bye." Dipper hastily placed the phone back and began to crawl over to Mabel. He lifted up Gideon's feet, ignoring the twinge in his elbow, while Mabel lifted him, by placing her hands underneath his armpits. The pair of them had to remain on their knees or risk hitting their heads. They shuffled on their knees, heading towards the door. When they were out of the entryway, Mabel began to stand, Dipper following her lead. He halted his efforts immediately though, panting. _Haha! Pain is hilarious!_ "S-Stop!"

Mabel immediately went into a crouch. "Dipper?"

His elbow was immense pain by this point and he was beginning to see spots in his vision. His arm was violently trembling. "S-Slowly p-put him d-down."

Mabel slowly settled the 10-year-old down, right as Dipper did. He released his hold on Gideon's shoes and immediately curled his arm against his chest, painfully squeezing his eyes shut. "Oh, my god! Dipper, what happened?!"

He opened his eyes to witness Mabel covering her mouth. He glanced down at his arm and saw heavy bruising surrounding his elbow. Well, that explained why it hurt so bad. "I-I fell..."

"Do...do y-you need a hospital?"

"N-No, it's just bruised...do you hear...any-anything...?"

"What?"

"Well, I-I don't hear _him_ anymore..."

"Grandpa Stanley?"

"N-No, uh B-" Dipper couldn't speak. Why couldn't he? Bill Cipher. Just say it. All he needed to do was say the name. Say it. Just sa-

"Kids? What are you two doing messing around with that closet?"

Dipper swung around to see Grunkle Stan standing at the entry way of the living room. "Uhhhhh..."

Dipper had no idea what to say in order to explain everything that happened the past few hours, without mentioning Bill Cipher. Ever since the first meeting of the dream demon, Soos, Dipper, and Mabel had agreed to not mention him to Stan. They weren't sure he would react kindly to the idea of a demon stalking them. Mabel always knew what to say though. "Grunkle Stan, we need to go to the hospital."

"Hospital? Did one of you two get hurt?"

Dipper and Mabel swung arond to Gideon. Expect, he wasn't there. Only the front door, standing wide open. Dipper knew right away that they wouldn't find him for the rest of the night. Mabel didn't know that though. "Gid-"

Dipper stepped on her foot and she stumbled away with a cry. Dipper lifted his injured elbow. "I fell and hit it really hard."

Stan frowned and stepped forward, tenderly taking hold of the extended arm. "Kid, how do you end up hurting yourself like this all the time?"

Dipper gulped guilty. He never meant to. It just always seemed to happen. "Uh, I..."

Stan sighed. "Ok, we're going. Mabel, stay here."

Mabel gaped at him. "Bu-But!"

"No, stay here. You should be in bed anyways. I'm gonna get the car keys, then we're going, Dipper." Stan concluded, before leaving the room. Dipper hadn't noticed until now, but Stan had his fez and slippers on. As if he had never gone to sleep. What had he been doing all night? And, was it him to turn the power back on? Dipper turned to his sister. "I saw him in the woods a few days ago and he just disappeared. I don't know how Gideon does it, but we won't find him."

"B-But, he was so sick and..."

"I...I know," Dipper gulped. He felt anxious about where the boy could of possibly disappeared off to. The longer he had been with the defenseless boy, the less hate he had felt about their past encounters. The brunet truly wanted to locate him to help, but knew he wouldn't be able to. He knew what happened precisely occurred when someone's fever escalated too high and that caused him to be afraid for the 10-year-old. There was nothing either of them could do at the moment though. "He'll...he'll probably be ok though. He was in jail, so I think he can survive a fever..."

Mabel nodded hesitantly. "Are you ok though?"

"Yeah, it's just some bruises. I'l-"

"I didn't mean that, Dipper."

The triangle episode he had. He recalled the slap and guilt welled up in his heart. "...I-Is your cheek o-ok?"

"It's fine. What happened though?"

It occurred to Dipper that he now possessed a new deep dark secret; the triangles. He would keep this secret to grave though. Then again, that was precisely what he told himself when it came to the whispers. He decided to stick to the truth. "I'm just tired..."

_~!10-9-12-12/18-5-8-16-9-3!~_

"Dick?" Stan questioned the doctor. The doctor, a man this time, was prodding the bruises. Dipper hissed in discomfort, as his eyes welled with tears. The doctor frowned. Dipper was exhausted after the events that took place that night and desired for the pain to leave. On a curious note though, he wasn't aware Stan would know a doctor here. He squinted through the tears to read his name tag, revealing it 'Thompson'. Thompson. Oh. He recalled that Thompson one teen Wendy's group that was always picked on and chosen to do the task no one else wished to do. Judging from the man's age, Dipper assumed the man to be around he late 30s or early 40s, likely causing him to be Thompson's father.

"I suspect there may be a break or a fracture somewhere on the elbow."

Stan frowned. "It bad?"

"No, I've seen worse, Stanley."

Dipper tensed at the name. Stanley? Wasn't Grunkle Stan's full name Stanford? His great-uncle's eyes flickered over to his face, before returning to the doctor's. "Ok."

The doctor revealed a smile. "Dipper? We just needed to take an x-ray of your arm. Have you ever had an x-ray before?"

Dipper nodded. "So, you've had some experience it would seem?"

Dipper nodded, once more. Dr. Thompson opened the door to the examination room and brought him out into the hallway. He caught Stan narrowing his eyes at Dipper, causing the brunet to squirm a bit. The doctor led him down to the room where the x-ray was. "Um, D-Doctor Thompson?"

They continued to walk. "Yes?"

"I always forget, but isn't Stan's name actually Stanford?"

The man frowned. "No, it's actually Stanley."

"Oh..."

If Stan knew Doctor Thompson, why would he lie about his name? Unless..."Then, is Stanford his brother?"

The doctor opened the door to the x-ray room. He appeared confused. "Brother? Your grandfather doesn't have any siblings."

Grandfather. No siblings. As the information set in, Dipper stared at the man. He thought Stan's name was Stanley. He thought Stan was his who was the man on the phone who claimed he was stuck between two worlds? A chill trembled down his spine. Wha- "Now, you need to change into this gown before we can x-ray you."

Dipper bobbed his head up and down, in a daze. Dr. Thompson turned, to give him privacy, adjusting the x-ray machine. Dipper removed his pajamas, leaving him only in his underwear. Then, he put his arms through the gown sleeves and tied the string in the back. The man moved over to a rack of aprons and didn't turn back to Dipper, until he was wearing the lead shielding apron, to protect against the rays of the machines. Dipper hardly noticed as the doctor guided him to the table, too deep in his thoughts of what the possibility of the names.

_~!-?-!~_

"There's a hairline fracture on the olecranon. That's right here." The doctor explained to Stan, pointing his pen at the tip of the elbow. Stan was glad the kid was still the x-ray room. He was sure he would have a anxiety attack over a crack on his elbow. It was barely noticeable though, simply a squiggle on the photographs. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Jesus, he was exhausted. Upon discovering his brother's journals being missing, he had frantically searched every nook and cranny in the lab. Right as he finished searching each hiding place, he realized that they weren't anywhere down in the lab. Right at the moment of that thought, the lights flickered, and died. He had rolled his eyes. Stupid power outage. Then, his eyes widened in horror as he realized all of the power went out, including the portal. Stan had kept it continuously running, fearing it wouldn't start again if he had shut it off.

He had stumbled and tripped over to where he knew the controls were and began to type in the code to start the portal. The first time around, he never bothered to know the code, but memorized it this time, in fear of not being able to operate for decades, like before. When that didn't work, he picked up his lantern and lit it. He rushed upstairs, into the shop, internally panicking. He toyed with the control panel outside for the next 15 minutes, until he was able to get the power started. He hadn't exactly understood why the power went out in the first place, but figured the portal had overpowered the house. Stan had nearly returned to the lab, when he thought he heard a distant conversation. Finding his great-niece and great-nephew messing around with the hidden closet he had painted to match the rest of the wood, had surprised him. Then, he recalled how easy they had discovered Stanley's room and realized how not surprised he was. Discovering Dipper hurting himself once more though, was still upsetting, no matter how times it happened. Thankfully, this injury wasn't as bad as the time with the stitches. That would be difficult to explain to Ariel when the kids returned home. The doctor continued on. "Since it's a very minor fracture, he'll need to wear a brace for at least a 3 to 4 weeks ."

Oh, Dipper was not going to like this. "A month?"

"Yes, around that time, or it may end up as a full break and then he'll have to wear a cast for a much longer amount of time."

Stan nodded. Dr. Thompson observed him, knowing full well that Stan didn't visit a doctor on a regular basis. "What about you, Stanley? Anything noteworthy?"

"No, I don't have any aches or pains or weird growths. I'm as fit as a horse."

"What's wrong with your hand then?"

"Cut it when I was restocking my store." Stan smoothly lied.

"Can I see?"

Stan rolled his eyes and handed it over, knowing full well the man would harass him for it until he would show him. Dr. Thompson unbandaged his thick hand and studied it. He nodded in approval, before reaching into a draw for more bandages. He re-wrapped it, as speaking. "Healing fine."

"Great. Now, I'm pretty sure my grandson is dead on his feet. Can we get the brace now?"

"Of course."

The two of them entered the x-ray room, revealed Dipper in his pajamas once more and settled on the table. He rubbed his eyes as the doctor approached and began to position the brace on Dipper's arm. "You have a slight fracture in your elbow. This brace will keep it your arm in place, so that it heals properly. Only take it off when showering, alright?"

Dipper nodded, appearing in a daze. "It's to stay on for at least a 3 weeks."

Stan was astounded when Dipper bobbed his head up and down at the instructions. He must of been more exhausted then Stan first believed to not complain about the amount of time it would take to heal. More astounding, was that preteen and didn't utter a word on the way back to the Mystery Shack, silence only filled with the vocals of Bruce Springsteen's "I'm on Fire" and the occasional rumbling of thunder. A storm was brewing. Right as Stan parked though, Dipper spoke. "Why does Doctor Thompson think you're my grandfather?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Stan smoothly lied.

"...He called you Stanley though."

"You must of heard wrong then." Stan evenly replied, sweat building up on his face

"He said your name is Stanley and that Stanley never had any siblings."

Shit. Then, he saw movement from the corner of his eyes. "I think you and your sister should go off to bed."

Dipper glanced over to the porch, and witnessed a concerned appearing Mabel peering through the triangle shaped window on the door. Triangle? It was supposed to be a diamond shape. He was barely fazed by the fact and turned his gaze back to his great-uncle. "Is your name really Stanford?"

Stan released a weary sigh and spoke in a defeated voice. "Yes, I'm Stanford Pines. A lot of folks in this town think my full name is Stanley though."

"...Why?" God, this kid was just full of questions he didn't wish to answer.

"Kid, sometimes folks want to see the best in others."

Dipper frowned. "What?"

"Look, I'm just gonna frank now; I don't want to talk about it, ok?"

Dipper stared blankly into the drizzle of rain. "Ok, Grunkle Stan."

_End Chapter 8_

**Would you look at that; I didn't stop on a cliffhanger this time, unlike Not What He Seems. (_Spoilers ahead_) Holy guacamole though! Stanley Pines is canon now! Great job fandom! If only we didn't have wait until the summer for the next episode though. The wait is going to be brutal!  
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